The Gift
by scifiromance
Summary: An eighteen year old Chakotay's dreams of attending Starfleet Academy are thrown into disarray when a Borg Cube crashes near his home... AU. C/7
1. Saviours

**A/n: For those waiting for chapter 5 of "The River of Time" don't worry, I'll write that after I've started this, once again an idea struck me and I just **_**had **_**to write it down. I've changed quite a few things for this fic, including Chakotay's age, for the purposes of this fic there's only about two years between him and Seven, rather than nineteen. Anyway, hopefully you'll understand as you read, please review! :D**

Dorvan V. Early spring, 2364.

"Dear Mr Kotay, we at Starfleet Academy are pleased to be able to offer you a place as a freshman cadet for the academic year 2364/65. Please send us your final exam results and graduation certificate before Stardate3064.9, (August 24 2364 Terran calendar) and we'll…" The letter's recipient, the aforementioned Mr Kotay, more commonly known as Chakotay, stopped reading at that point, a wide smile spreading across his face. He'd gotten in! He'd beaten all those centrally educated city boys, all he had to do was be sure to pass his last exams and he'd finally be able to leave this backwater… "Chakotay?" A young, uncertain, female voice interrupted his thoughts, "What are you doing?"

He turned around to see his sixteen year old sister Sekaya peering at him curiously from where she was standing at the threshold of his bedroom door. For once he wasn't even angry that his baby sister hadn't knocked, with a sheepish smile he lifted the PADD with the beloved letter on it up to her eye level, "Reading this." He replied cryptically.

Sekaya shot him and confused and irritated look, but as she did so her eyes caught the Starfleet insignia on the back of the PADD. "You got in?" she squealed excitedly, throwing herself into his arms for a hug as he joyfully laughed and nodded in answer. "What a great belated eighteenth birthday present to get, it's not fair!" she exclaimed as she stepped back out of the tight hug, hitting him teasingly on the arm.

"In a couple of years you'll be going to whatever college you want Sekaya." He told her confidently with a warm smile.

Sekaya snorted, "Over Dad's dead body…" She began, stopping as realisation hit her of her brother's problem, "Wait, how are you going to tell Dad you're going away? You know he won't take it well…"

Chakotay winced; he _had_ been hoping to have some time to think that…delicate task over but… "I know…" He sighed heavily, "That's probably why I never told him I'd applied…"

Sekaya gaped at him for a moment before her face hardened, "You idiot! You'll give him a heart attack…"

Chakotay bristled, "That's maybe exaggerating it a bit Sekaya…"

"Oh?" she echoed sarcastically, "Then go and tell him right now then!"

A dry chuckle rippled through the room, "Obviously your mother's efforts to teach you two not to argue haven't stuck."

Chakotay felt himself fall into mental paralysis for a moment as he saw his father's weather-beaten face in front of him and stammered, "D…Dad?"

Kolopak's eyes, dark and rich as his farm's soil, twinkled in amusement. "Yes Chakotay, I'm here in my own home. Now what is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Um…" Chakotay swallowed hard, his eyes skimming everything around him in search of an idea. Finally, they fell on the view from his window and he muttered, "I was just saying to Sekaya that I think it's about time the crops were sown, that's all."

Sekaya shot him a disparaging look and silently mouthed "Chicken" at him from behind her father's back as he smiled with pleased approval, "Great minds think alike son. I was just about to suggest that we start the preparations, why don't you get your new medicine bag and come with me?"

Chakotay choked back an exasperated sigh, more praying! Instead he just nodded submissively and snatched up his medicine bag, a coming of age present for his birthday the week before, and followed his father outside.

* * *

><p>Kolopak silently sprinkled red ochre onto the freshly ploughed ground as the melodic ancient chants of his people hummed from his throat, "Take this sacred earth as a gift from this family and if you see it fit to bless us with gentle rain and soft sun from your skies then we may…" He paused mid prayer as his son's suppressed sighs and tut of disapproval hit his ears and turned abruptly to face him, "Is there something wrong Chakotay?"<p>

"No…" Chakotay started to mutter then let himself frown at his father, "Why are you bothering to do this? There is no god of rain, or anything else for that matter. Why do you refuse the weather simulators that have been around for over a century and yet still continue to do this?"

"I do it because it is the way of our people, to let nature take its course and still live happily with it. Control breeds discontent Chakotay."

Chakotay didn't bother to bite back his snort, "Why are you so scared of technology? We'd still be who we are; we'd just catch up with everyone else!"

Kolopak frowned sadly at him, "And who's to say we'd like where they're headed, compared to what we have now?"

His dismissive tone of everything he admired riled Chakotay, "Well, I don't know about you, but I want to find out!" he snapped angrily, withdrawing the PADD hidden in his bag and tossing it at his father, "I'm going to Starfleet in the fall, whether you want me to or not!"

Kolopak flinched at his abrasive tone and said, with cold, hurt anger reflecting in his eyes, "You are an adult now, I can't stop you, but as your father I can warn you…" He shovelled up a handful of soil in his hands, _"This_, this land, the land your people have cultivated with their own hands for generations, will always be more yours than any sanitised ship Starfleet could offer you! If you take this path you may find that one day your roots are gone…"

"What do you know about Starfleet?" Chakotay shot back, "You wouldn't know a ship if it fell on your head…" An all encompassing roar drowned out the rest of his words, the very ground beneath his feet shuddering in trepidation as he looked up to see a huge object curving a low flaming arc in the sky. "What's that?" he asked his father in disbelief, "A meteor?"

"No…" His father replied, his eyes fixed unerringly on the violent light show above, "It's a ship…" Before the last word had left his lips the vessel disappeared over the horizon, the pressure wave of the explosion almost knocking them off their feet even before the ear splitting bang resounded off their ears.

"It's crashed…" Chakotay breathed in horror as the sickening smell of charred wood and boiling plasma filled his nostrils. Without thinking, he pulled out his rather dilapidated tricorder and scanned the surrounding area, forgetting for the moment that his father had banned him from using such technology outside of school. "I can't identify what kind of vessel it is, but there are a few lifesigns, faint though."

Kolopak nodded, "It isn't far away, I can hear the flames, maybe even within our boundary. Let's go see what we can do for them." Chakotay stared at him in surprise, but his father had already headed off through the bush.

* * *

><p>Kolopak knew by the scale of the destruction, craters of mangled debris, centuries old trees buckled and burning, that he was a witness to a huge disaster but the size of the vessel still shocked him. It had been cube shaped at one point, but now lay embedded in the ground, a huge crippling gash in its side opening its contents to the world. Smouldering fuel spilled out onto the smoke blackened ground… He was struggling to take it in, the unrecognisable bodies that lay strewn everywhere, when Chakotay caught up with him, "Dad…" He began fearfully, gagging as he saw the bodies, "What…What happened to them?"<p>

Kolopak bowed his head regretfully, "I don't know son." He peered askance at the tricorder, "Can you read any survivors on that thing?"

"There's one nearby, in the wreckage I think…" Chakotay responded shakily, fighting the urge to turn and run, there was just something about the unknown ship that reeked of death and filled him with an irrational fear. "Dad, I think we should wait for the sheriff…" He began to caution but he was too late, his father already disappearing into the pierced hull of the ship. "Hey, wait!" he shouted fearfully after him, only following him when he got no response. "Dad! Dad!" he called out as he crept inside, cautiously pushing aside damaged circuitry as he scanned the darkness for his father.

God, if I was going to design hell this would be pretty much it… He thought as he wandered mindlessly around, trying to follow his tricorder's readings as best he could in the crushed space, only dimly lit by some sort of sickly green lights. A shudder ran up his back as he heard a groan, "Dad!" he cried out again, running towards the sound but instead colliding with something drooping against a wall. He screamed as he saw what it was, a dead humanoid face overlaid with technology. "_Borg_!" He could barely force the cry from his throat such was his fear.

"I know Chakotay." Chakotay's head swivelled wildly around to see his father bent over something blocking the corridor just ahead. He gave his son a calmly reassuring glance over his shoulder then smiled wryly, "I don't think they're up to much assimilating at the moment."

"But…" Chakotay choked out, "There could be beacons on this ship! A whole fleet of them could be coming…"

"If the Borg wanted Dorvan V they'd have it by now Chakotay." Kolopak pointed out calmly. "Come here, I think I found your lifesign."

Chakotay stepped forward a few steps, freezing when he saw the limp, but still unmistakable, body of a drone in his father's lap. "Don't touch that!" He hissed in disgust, flinching when it groaned, "Just…Just put it out of its misery and let's get out of here!"

Kolopak glared at him with an anger that shocked Chakotay, "I've raised my children better than to let anyone suffer when they need help!" He tilted the stark white, blue veined face of the drone towards Chakotay, "Look, she's younger than your sister, and human too…at some point in her life."

"_She_?" Chakotay echoed in disbelief. How could even tell it was human, let alone if it was male or female? The twitching arm of gnarled metal, the bald scalp, the dimly glowing implant that had once been an eye… His observations were interrupted as the drone gave a violent jerk and he found himself staring into a pale blue human eye, cold with blind hatred. "We…are Borg…" She, even with that monotone voice Chakotay could tell that his father had been right, choked out determinedly, her hand weakly rising to grab Kolopak, her legs thrashing. "You will be assimilated!" She ground out, "Resistance is fu…" A broken, almost childish moan of pain left her colourless lips and she sank limply against Kolopak.

"Is it dead?" Chakotay breathed, trying and failing to keep the relief from his voice.

"No, but she'll probably wish she was when she wakes." Kolopak replied sadly, stroking the scarred face gently, "Poor little girl…"

"She's not a child Dad; she's a Borg drone who'd kill us without a thought…"

Kolopak sighed heavily, "If you're going to be a Starfleet officer Chakotay, you're going to have to learn to show compassion to those you fear or hate." Chakotay stiffened as the words sank in, regretful pity for the drones, who had all once been as individual as he, entering his soul for the first time, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Kolopak smiled at him proudly, "Good. Now, help me lift her up, she needs to get to the hospital if we're going to save her."

**A/n: Oh I REALLY hope you like this! The idea was so random but I have to say that so far it's one of my favourites! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	2. Crash and Burn

**A/n: Thanks to lisac1965 for updating "The Little Girl" on Tuesday night, I can't recommend reading it highly enough!**

Chakotay felt a shudder run through him as he shifted awkwardly on the cold chair, fighting to keep his eyes away from the unconscious drone lying on the biobed nearby and instead scanning the interior of the small hospital he wished wasn't so familiar. It was the only structure on the planet which even remotely came up to modern standards, not that that had done his mother much good… Instinctively he drew back from that memory, still raw even after over two years, and focused instead on his father's and Dr Chovak's conversation, "You were right Kolopak, genetically she's as human as the rest of us, and according to the tricorder around fifteen years old, but who knows what those implants are doing to the accuracy of my instruments." Dr Chovak said as his practised eye studied the drone again.

"Fifteen?" Kolopak muttered sadly, gazing at the unmoving, mutilated young body for a moment before straightening his shoulders. "Will she live?"

Dr Chovak frowned thoughtfully, "Her injuries are actually quite minor, she was lucky, all the other drones we've found so far are dead. The problem is that with her link with the Collective broken, her human physiology is reasserting itself and rejecting her implants, if we don't remove the vast majority of them, she'll go into septic shock and die."

Jokolan, one of the two village elders who had joined them in Sickbay, suddenly spoke up, "When we finally manage to get through the Cardassian comm. signal block, I'm sure Starfleet's doctors will do all they can for her."

Chovak shook his head. "You don't understand, _I'll_ have to do it she has any chance of survival, time is of the essence."

Kolopak nodded grimly and turned towards Jokolan, "Who is to say the best place for her is Starfleet?"

Jokolan stared at him in disbelief, "What are you talking about? Starfleet are going to be crawling all over this place when they find out about the Cube, they'll want to study her…"

Kolopak glared back at him coolly, "Precisely my point, they'll study her, not help her. If this was _your _daughter in this situation, would you want her shipped off to be some sort of lab rat?" He knew he'd made his point when the other man flinched, his tone becoming correspondingly resolute, "I say we do all we can for her until we can find her family, or if she has none, keep her safe until we're sure she won't be mistreated. If Starfleet want something to study, there are hundreds of corpses."

Chakotay felt his mouth drop open. "Dad, you can't seriously be suggesting that we keep her _here_…"

"I'm perfectly serious Chakotay." Kolopak interrupted, guessing his son's point.

"But…" Chakotay began angrily, only to be once again interrupted by the stern clearing of a throat.

It was Daropak, the oldest and most senior of the elders, who had accompanied Jokolan to the hospital. "This is not a time for arguing." He admonished them all gently, though with his eyes on Chakotay, who flushed in embarrassed anger. "I agree with Kolopak, the Sprits have brought her here, and made Kolopak and Chakotay find her, for a reason. We should not forsake a gift and we cannot allow any child to fall into danger. If she lives, she must be shielded as a daughter of our people, at least until her family have been found."

Daropak's words hung in the air for several minutes before Chovak awkwardly spoke up, "I have your permission to treat her then Elder?" he asked respectfully.

Daropak, now moving to leave the room with Jokolan, glanced back at the girl then shot Kolopak a small smile, "It seems the Sprits have chosen Kolopak and his family for her, let him decide."

As soon as the two Elders were gone Chakotay whirled around to face his father, his face fearful and questioning, "They don't expect _you_ to be responsible for a Borg do they?" he asked somewhat shrilly.

His father just breathed a sigh in reply and patted the drone's bloodless hand before addressing Dr Chovak, "I think you should do all you can for her."

Chovak nodded approvingly but trepidation revealed itself in his voice as he said, "Good, but just to warn you that I doubt she'll thank you for it, she's been a drone most of her life, the implants grew with her, the Collective may be all she knows."

Kolopak seemed to think the doctor's words over before saying quietly, "Can you wake her?" When he saw their incredulous looks he shrugged, "It doesn't seem right not to at least _try_ to talk to her before we perform a life-changing operation."

"How do we know if she'll even be able to talk without the Collective? They don't think separately!" Chakotay exclaimed.

Chovak began to prepare the hypospray. "She is as sentient a human being as you or I Chakotay even with God knows how many years of Borg brainwashing."

Chakotay sighed and turned to his father pleadingly, "At least put up some forcefields up around her." Kolopak nodded wordlessly and as soon Chovak had moved in to administer the hypospray and stepped back a blue forcefield materialised around the biobed.

Chakotay couldn't drag his eyes away as he saw her begin to slowly drift into consciousness, morbidly reminded of the classic Earth novel Frankenstein he'd had to read for school as he saw her limbs begin to twitch. He jumped as her single eye shot open and within seconds she sat bolt upright on the biobed, he could see her cybernetic eye scanning them for a few moments before a gasp of realisation left her throat. "The others…where are the others?" she whispered in fearful confusion, clutching her head as if in pain, "Silence…alone. Why are we alone?" The last word left her mouth as a panicked moan and for the first time she seemed to realise the significance of their presence, launching herself off the biobed and onto her feet with predatory ease, glaring at them with accusatory violence. "What have you done to this drone?" she snarled, "It's link with the Collective is _severed_..." She stopped as if the very acknowledgement of this fact hurt her.

Kolopak smiled at her with gentle, reassuring pity, "I know and I'm sorry. I know that must be terrifying for you. I'm Kolopak…" He paused and indicated Chovak and Chakotay, "This is Dr Chovak, who's been treating you, and my son Chakotay. What's your name?"

Her metal scarred hands clenched. "Names are irrelevant." She stated icily. "This drone's designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One." One of the monitors clipped to her beeped and she shied at the sound like a wild animal, wrenching the device from her shoulder and throwing it to the floor, her fearless superior mask slipping. "Where are the others? _What have you done to us_?" she shouted, on the brink of hysteria.

Kolopak tried to keep his demeanour calm and sympathetic, "We haven't done anything to you Seven of Nine, your Cube crashed here, and you were the only survivor…"

"No! Impossi…" She began to retort before halting abruptly, Chakotay could sense the memories washing over her as her expression suddenly became distant, her voice shaky, "Malfunction… We fell out of transwarp, in Sector 3567.6, Dor…Dorvan V…"

Kolopak smiled encouragingly at her. "That's right. You're in the hospital on Dorvan V. You need treatment…"

"Treatment?" Seven of Nine interrupted tersely, "No, we do not require your treatment. Provide us with a sub space transponder to contact the Collective, and then this drone will be repaired."

Kolopak shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry, we can't do that."

She stalked towards him until her face practically brushed against the forcefield. "You _do not_ have a choice."

"Neither do you." Dr Chovak interjected, "Your human physiology is reasserting itself, if we don't remove your Borg systems you'll die."

She barely flinched, something which disturbed and saddened all three men in the room. "Then we will die."

"No, we're giving you back your life. You're human, a unique individual, no one else is forcing their thoughts on you…" Kolopak tried to explain, but all of her control seemed to leave her then.

"_WE ARE BORG_!" she screamed, "We cannot function _alone_!" Chakotay jumped as she threw herself against the forcefield, he could hear the sizzle of her remaining human flesh burning. "Return this drone to the Collective _NOW_!" she cried out in a snarl as she drew back, growing even more enraged when Kolopak shook his head at her and throwing herself against the forcefield until they could see it straining to hold her. Chakotay knew she could feel the agony, he could hear whimpers of pain through the wordless cries of rage and terror, but that seemed to be preferable to listening to them.

"She'll kill herself!" Chovak exclaimed in horror, snatching up a hypospray while she was distracted by Kolopak. Quickly he deactivated the shield and injected her before her now truly crippled body could react.

"You will be assimil…" She began to shriek wildly before suddenly slumping back against Chovak, once again unconscious.

Breathlessly Chovak heaved her back onto the biobed. "I think you'd better find some way to get through to her before trying that again Kolopak." He said grimly.

"Start the operation; she's not competent enough right now to make the choice." Kolopak said quietly, with Chakotay staring at him in disbelief, surely after that exchange he didn't still want to save her?

"I'll have to do it in stages, her body is very weak." Chovak replied.

"Call us back when she's stable." Kolopak muttered, running a stressed hand through his greying hair, "Come on Chakotay."

* * *

><p>Chakotay barely bothered to explain the situation to Sekaya before retreating to his room, how could their lives have altered so much in just a couple of hours? His going to Starfleet was the last thing on his mind now, let alone his father's. After three hours or so, Chakotay dared to enter his father's office, longing to talk this whole hellish day over, but he jolted back in shock when he saw that his father, the technology-phobic, was standing knee deep in Borg wreckage, a handheld computer in his hand. "What the hell are you doing bringing that into the house?" Chakotay snapped angrily.<p>

Kolopak ignored his tone, instead saying lightly, "Believe or not, I can use technology perfectly well Chakotay, I just chose not to long ago, but this is a special case." He tossed the small computer at Chakotay, "I found out who she is…or was."

"Really?" Chakotay asked sceptically before glancing down at the screen, which to his surprise showed a half page biography, flanked by a picture of a happily smiling little girl, not even school age, with long blonde hair that went down to her waist and bright, sky-blue eyes. He found himself swallowing a lump in his throat, that couldn't possibly be their drone! "Annika Hansen, born Stardate 4868.4, 24th of June 2348 on Deep Space Three…" He trailed off, not wanting to read further into the life of this lost girl. "God, Dr Chovak was right, she won't even be sixteen for over three months and she's threatening to kill us…"

Kolopak exhaled heavily, "From what I can gather her parents, Magnus and Erin, were the first scientists to study the Borg, as that implies they were mavericks in their field, exobiology. Apparently when Annika was three they went on an unsanctioned research mission, following the Borg into the Delta Quadrant."

Chakotay gulped, suddenly grateful that even though his father had often dragged along on research missions he'd never been reckless enough to take him into a virtually unknown quadrant, infested with Borg. "The Delta Quadrant? We may be on the edge of the Federation Dad, but we're definitely still in the Alpha Quadrant! How did she get here?"

Kolopak's brow furrowed uneasily, "You'll have to ask her that." He took in a deep breath, as if bracing himself. "According to what I've recovered, she was assimilated on Stardate 5468.6, the 26th of June 2354, her parents too."

Chakotay's gut tightened in pity, the colour draining from his face. "She was assimilated _two days_ after her sixth birthday? That's nearly ten years! No wonder she doesn't remember anything…"

Kolopak's face was grimly set. "We're just going to have to help her; I haven't had any luck finding any family as yet." With that he sighed heavily and left his son alone in the office, who stared at the photograph with grief in his heart.

**A/n: I hope you like where this is going! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D Just to say that I know Seven has an aunt on the show, but she probably won't in this fic. (Unless I can think of a way to write her in but maintain my plot!) **


	3. Barriers

Chakotay wasn't sure how long he stood in the office before he drifted outside the house and back towards the hospital, passing his father's bedroom door as he left, through which he could hear his father praying for advice and support from the Sprits. He wasn't sure what drove him back to the hospital he'd fled from only hours before, but cautiously put it down to curiosity as he stepped back into the room where Dr Chovak stood bent over the console closest to his patient's biobed, lifting his head and smiling tiredly at Chakotay as he entered. "What's that you've got there?" he asked.

Chakotay felt confused for a moment until he realised he was still holding the PADD with Annika Hansen's background on it and flushed slightly, why did he still have that anyway? Why did he even care? "Oh, um, Dad thinks he's found out who she is." He finally said awkwardly, "Annika Hansen, she and her parents were assimilated nearly ten years ago."

Chovak sighed through his teeth, "Well, I suppose that explains her behaviour earlier."

"Yeah." Chakotay agreed quietly, before stepping closer to the biobed and letting his eyes sweep over the girl's unmoving body, gasping in surprise when he saw the changes, Chovak had obviously been working hard. Her skin had turned a decidedly more natural shade of pale pink, among the still numerous metallic implants there were now large patches of gauze where some of the additions had obviously been removed, and most obviously the black box that had been her cybernetic eye was gone, replaced by what looked like a normal eye, only differing from the other by having silver metal encasing where her eyebrow should have been and curving around part of her eye socket. Chakotay shot Chovak an impressed look, "Are you finished?"

Chovak choked back a small, exhausted laugh, "Oh no, I've only removed about half of what I need to so far!"

"You're doing well so far! I didn't think she'd have her own eye under that thing!"

Chovak's face darkened, "She didn't. I used some of the Borg technology to fashion her one, it'll have most of the aspects of her Borg one, but it matches her human eye as much as possible, I doubt anyone will be able to tell it's not original." He waited until he saw that Chakotay had absorbed what he'd said before heading to the door, "I'd better go and tell your father and the Elders about the progress so far before I continue…"

"Can I stay here?" Chakotay asked as he mentally compared the photograph now burned into his memory with the mutilated creature before him now.

Chovak shrugged, "Sure, I don't see why not."

"Thanks." Chakotay muttered as the doctor left, finding a chair far enough away from the biobed to put a reasonable distance between himself and the drone and settling down to watch and wait.

* * *

><p>He'd been sitting there less than ten minutes when a weak groan penetrated his ears and his sleepy head snapped up to see the girl jerking into consciousness, her metal webbed hand brushing against her damp forehead as she struggled to wake. Quickly he jumped off the chair and headed towards the edge of the forcefield which still surrounded her, stopping abruptly halfway when his common sense told him to call Chovak and his father before doing anything… His hand paused above the comm. console though as a whimper that sounded disturbingly like a sob sent a chill down his spine and he promptly forgot what was sensible and turned to face the captive patient.<p>

Her eyes, now a discerning pair of pale blue orbs, were wide open now, their gaze shifting constantly without focusing on anything, her posture, even lying down, was taunt and fearful. Chakotay couldn't help but be reminded of the time he and his father had found a wild horse in a trap while on Earth, it's eyes had had that same uncontrollable instinctive fear hers had now, ready to flee or lash out until the threat was gone… He swallowed, it wasn't right that a human should be like that! He heard her gasp for air, she was fully consciousness now, and found himself mumbling under his breath, "Hey." He smiled as her as gently as he could, trying to keep his own distrust hidden, "Relax, you're safe here…"

She sat up in a single movement, staring at him with darkened but empty eyes which frightened him, as if measuring him up, then glanced down at herself, he was surprised to see her lips twist in a momentary display of shock and disgust before setting her flaming eyes on him again. "You have tampered with this drone." She stated, despite her icy tone she sounded shocked that such a thing was possible.

Chakotay felt himself shrug, unsure as how to answer her. "If you count making you human again, then yes, we have…tampered with you."

Her stare became a violent, agitated glare, "We are _Borg_! We have always been Borg!"

Chakotay winced as he thought of the little _human_ girl she had once been and shook his head vigorously, "No, you were born human. We're doing this to give you back your freedom, the life the Borg stole from you! Now you can do whatever you want, not being forced to assimilate others…"

"We _want_ to be Borg!" She retorted, beginning to pace around the confined space behind the forcefield, nostrils flaring in frustration and anger. "We have no wish to be human! We don't remember what it is to _be_ human!" she cried out brokenly, the breath catching in her throat.

"Give yourself a chance before you condemn yourself to being a Borg forever…" Chakotay began to console but was halted by her snort of contempt.

"If you value individual choice so badly then respect ours, we have chosen to return to the Borg." She told him in a more controlled tone, hot hate flashing in her eyes when she saw denial and disbelief on his face. "The Collective's assessment of humanity is proving correct, over confident, morally superior, yet violent and hypocritical…"

Chakotay felt his hackles rise as her volley of insults hit home, rage exploding within him as he saw her smirk in satisfaction at regaining control of the situation. "If it wasn't for humanity's compassion, my father's specifically, you wouldn't be alive right now! If the choice had been mine I'd have left you to rot on that Cube!"

"We wish that you had! We'd rather _die _that be human!" she screamed back at him. Chakotay was about to retort again when he saw pure, unadulterated, _human_ pain in her eyes. She doesn't really want me to leave, he realised, without me she'd be utterly alone and she couldn't cope with that… Acting on this hunch, he dialled some commands into the computer, waiting until the forcefields had deactivated before slowly approaching her, PADD in hand. Instead of lunging at him, as he'd half expected, she backed against the biobed, her jaw set. "If you come any closer, I'll…I'll kill you!" she spat out sullenly as he came ever closer.

He found himself giving her a knowing smile, all the while wondering if he'd lost his mind, "Oh, I don't think you will, your bark's worse than your bite I think."

Total confusion flashed across her agitated face, "Explain!"

He ignored her and held the PADD out towards her. "This is what told us about you. Your name is Annika, Annika Hansen…"

She glanced furtively down at the PADD, her body freezing as she saw the photo and recognition lit her pale face for an instant before utter panic replaced it and she knocked the PADD violently from his hand, "_NO_! _YOU'RE LYING!_" she shrieked wildly.

"I'm not! You know I'm not! Who were you Annika? Who did you love? What did you hate? Which foods did you like? What was your favourite colour?" He wasn't sure where all these random questions were coming from, but he'd seen a crack in her Borg defences and knew he had to keep pushing her.

She was cowering against the biobed now, clutching her head as she rocked back and forth, glaring at him through her fingers, "Irr…Irrelevant! It's all_ irrelevant_!"

Chakotay heard a gasp from behind him, his father's shocked voice echoing in his ears, "Chakotay, what are you doing?"

He whirled around to see his father and Chovak staring in disbelief at the sight before them. "Dad…" He began, but was interrupted by Seven of Nine's strangled sobbing cry, she was now completely overwhelmed, her violently shaking body crumpling to the floor.

Kolopak moved into action, seeing that the danger was past, and knelt down beside her. "I know honey, I know, everything's going to be fine…"

"No…" She choked out, "Alone, singular, weak, imperfect…" She ranted robotically, curled into the foetal position with a single tear rolling down her cheek as she whispered, "Help…Help us… Help…me…"

Kolopak rubbed her shaking back gently. "We will, we will. Hush now…"

* * *

><p>"What do you think she'll be like Dad?" Chakotay asked worriedly as he stood with his father in the hospital hallway, waiting for Seven of Nine to leave Chovak's office, her operations now over. "Are you sure it was sensible to let Sekaya see her first?"<p>

"She'll be what she is, and we'll accept her." Kolopak replied calmly. "As for Sekaya, who better to introduce her to being a teenage girl? And she was feeling out of the loop."

"She should be grateful she was left out of this." Chakotay said quietly.

Kolopak raised a questioning, and slightly amused, eyebrow, "Really?"

"Yes…" Chakotay started to reply, irritated, but was interrupted by his sister practically bouncing down the hallway, a blonde walking at a much more sedate, uncertain pace beside her. It wasn't until they stopped in front of them that Chakotay realised the stranger was their former Borg.

She looked so different! She dwarfed the petite Sekaya, in fact she stood a little higher than Chakotay's chin, and despite not yet being halfway through her teenage years her figure was shapely, her clear pale but healthy complexion a complete turnaround from the deathly pallor of only three days before. Her Borg heritage was still in evidence though in the prominent silver implant above her eye and a star shaped one that started at the base of her ear and travelled down her cheek bone. The most dramatic change to her face though had to be the thick pale gold hair that had been pinned away from her face. Chakotay couldn't stop staring even as he heard his father's pleased voice, "Welcome Seven of Nine, I hope you're feeling better."

Her voice was stilted, but calm and controlled, "Yes…Dr Chovak has repaired the damage."

Sekaya snorted beside her, "Yeah, but I had to convince him to make her hair grow back! I'm glad I did though, it's lovely. A glint of jealousy shone in her dark eyes and she sighed dramatically, "I've always wanted to be blonde!"

Seven of Nine frowned at her in bemusement, "Why?"

Sekaya shrugged, "Just to be different I suppose."

Kolopak intervened, "It doesn't matter, how about we go and get you settled in?"

Seven of Nine looked uncertain for a moment but nodded stoically. "As you wish."

"Yeah!" Sekaya enthused, "Then we can replicate more clothes for you! You like what I chose for you, right?"

Seven of Nine glanced at her clothing, a pale green shift dress with a cream long sleeved top underneath to disguise the extend of her cybernetic arm, matching cream leggings and a simple pair of ballet flats, her face developing a deer in the headlights expression as she looked at an expectant Sekaya. Realising her dilemma, Chakotay mouthed "Yes" to her from behind his sister's back.

She cottoned on quickly as she caught Chakotay's eye. "Yes. I do."

Smiling at his daughter's beaming face, Kolopak gently admonished, "Don't overwhelm her with so many questions just yet honey, why don't you show her the way back home?"

"Okay!" Sekaya agreed, immediately setting off. Seven of Nine followed for a few paces then halted abruptly, turning back to face Chakotay.

"Red." She stated without explanation.

"What?" he asked blankly.

"You asked what her favourite colour was, it was red." With that said, she turned and submissively followed Sekaya without another word.

Chakotay stood, dumbstruck and unnerved, until his father's deep voice pulled him out of it, "Well, it seems like we'll have work to do." He commented.

"We?" Chakotay echoed uneasily.

"It wasn't me that got through to her Chakotay, it was you, like it or not."

"But…But…" Chakotay spluttered, "I didn't even want to help her in the first place…"

"But you do now, and that's the important thing." Kolopak said confidently, a proud smile spreading across his face as he squeezed his son's shoulder, "And besides…" He added, "You'll need something to fill your summer here before you head off to the Academy."

Chakotay nearly choked, "Really? What changed your mind?"

Kolopak smiled cryptically as he turned to follow the girls, "You've grown since you asked me."

**A/n: I hope you like this chapter! I'm actually not that sure about it. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	4. Diminutives, Designations and New Fears

**A/n: Thanks to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for starting a new C/7 story, "Far from Home". I recommend it!**

"Chakotay, will you go and get Seven of Nine for me? I need to have a talk with her."

Chakotay glanced up from the PADD he was studying for a Biology project, feeling irritated. Why did his dad need a messenger all of a sudden? It wasn't as if he was scared of her, in fact, in the week since they'd brought her back to the house, Kolopak had spent more time in the little spare room, where she'd shut herself up while Starfleet crawled eagerly over the wreckage of her Cube, than anyone else even taking her meals into her. "Why can't you…" He began to ask him grumpily, but stopped when he saw that his father was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What's got you so happy?" he inquired, setting the PADD down for now.

"Starfleet are gone, they've taken the Cube and all the corpses. They're like vultures, the area's picked clean, it's as if the ship was never there." Contempt shadowed Kolopak's voice.

"We're hiding a pretty significant memento." Chakotay reminded him, hoping he communicated his unease, and yes, fear, about the whole situation to his father but guilt quickly followed on its heels, it wasn't that he _wanted_ their Borg guest to go with them, no one deserved to be treated as an expendable piece of ammunition to be used against the Borg, but that knowledge didn't make the situation any less complicated or frightening…

Kolopak's smile became steadier, more reassuring, and for a moment Chakotay believed he'd read his mind, seen the turmoil within. "Just go and get her please son." He reiterated.

Chakotay nodded reluctantly and headed deeper into the house, past Sekaya's empty bedroom, she was spending the day at a friend's house on the other side of the village, and his own before finally reaching the door of the Borg's new lair. Automatically he lifted his fist to knock but then let it drop again, feeling stupid, and instead walked in unannounced. He was surprised to find it dark, the early afternoon light shut out almost entirely by shutters. A sick feeling rose in his gut as his eyes found the room's only light source, a tall machine with a glowing green light on it, obviously Borg. The sight of it didn't shake him as much as he thought it would, the disturbing thing was that Seven of Nine stood within it, still and unmoving. In that position, she reminded him of the Borg corpse that had greeted him as he entered the Cube, only held in place inside an identical machine by a few tangled wires and the effects of rigor mortis. As if she unconsciously sensed him staring at her, her eyes snapped open and scanned him up and down, "Chakotay." She stated by way of greeting.

"My father wants to see you, Starfleet are gone." If he'd expected relief on her face at that piece of news, he was disappointed; she only nodded stoically and stepped out of the machine in a single stride, but didn't move towards the doorway. He found his eyebrows rising as he stared at the complex wiring around the odd machine, and just for something to break the silence said, "I guess it's this thing that's been sapping so much power, even our lights are unreliable."

"The power supply to this building is woefully inefficient." She agreed, "I will attempt to improve the current." Without waiting for his permission she went to the small circuit panel in the wall and began to work, her fingers moving over it at lightening speed.

Chakotay watched her for a few minutes before losing interest, his gaze moving back to the machine. "What is that thing?"

"A Borg regeneration alcove." She replied without turning around to face him.

"Ah…" Chakotay muttered, he'd heard of those, the analogy he'd heard Starfleet use was that they recharged a Borg drone like a battery, eliminating the need for sleep. Chovak had said she'd need to use it for the rest of her life if she wanted to stay healthy. He was just about to ask her if she dreamed or had nightmares when she was plugged into that thing when he heard a sharp intake of breath and saw that she'd turned back towards him, the palm of her human hand sliced open and bleeding. "Ouch! Are you okay? What did you do?" he asked anxiously as she stared blankly down at the wound in surprise, as if not quite believing it was there.

Her cybernetic arm waved distractedly back at the circuits she'd been working on, "The panel…it had an unexpectedly sharp edge…"

"Okay." Chakotay replied quickly, taking her word for it. "I'll go to the bathroom and get the dermal regenerator." True to his word, he returned with the regenerator within two minutes, but she just stood there, continuing to stare at the cut, jerkily moving her fingers every so often. Her eyes had a glazed look, one he knew couldn't be caused entirely by pain, "Seven of Nine?" he asked uncertainly, "What's wrong?"

"I…I am uncertain…" She mumbled, her eyes still fixed on the cut, "In…In the Collective this damage would have repaired itself with 2.63 seconds…" Her throat moved up and down in a heavy gulp and Chakotay forgot to ask the question of how such nearly instantaneous healing could be achieved as a realisation hit him. It was pure vulnerability, utter fear, that he'd seen in her eyes, the look of a very young child who had for the first time realised they weren't invincible, that death stalked them throughout life.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped forward. "Well, a dermal regenerator can do it nearly as quick." He said lightly as he closed the gap between them and activated the regenerator.

She extended her hand out, palm up, stiffening momentarily in shock as his hand fastened on her wrist to hold her still. His skin was warm, a warmth that spread up her whole arm. She supposed she should have expected that, humans were warm blooded creatures after all, but expecting it and feeling it were two different things. She could only remember the icy touch of other drones, their white hands closing around her as they transferred her to a new maturation chamber every time she outgrew her previous one; there was no other reason for physical contact in the Collective… Suddenly, unbidden, as she stared down at his young, tanned hand, the image of another, paler hand, more like hers, filled her brain. It pressed a plaster over a scraped knee, an injury thought too minor for the dermal regenerator, its owner's face smiling at her reassuringly as he finished the task, pale blue eyes shimmering with kindness. She found herself blinking rapidly as the image faded, a pain she'd never felt before forming behind her eyes. "That's me finished. Are you okay?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, snapping her head up and letting her hand fall away from his. For a second she saw the same kindness in his dark eyes as she'd seen in the unknown man's in the memory, but she quickly dismissed the observation as irrelevant. "Yes." She answered, "You said that your father wished to see me?"

Chakotay almost winced when he saw her guard was up again, but realised in the same instant that his was to as he replied brusquely, "Yeah, he does. Come on."

* * *

><p>Kolopak smiled in relief when he saw Seven of Nine enter with Chakotay just behind her. "Good morning, how are doing rebuilding that alcove we…requisitioned for you?" he asked her in a friendly tone.<p>

"It is complete." She responded simply.

He gave a satisfied nod, "Good. You shouldn't need to worry about using it now; Starfleet and their sensors are gone.

"Chakotay informed me." She said blandly, "Is there something else you wish to discuss."

"Yes…" Kolopak shifted awkwardly on his chair. "It about your name…or your designation shouldn't I say? It's just that Seven of Nine is a little longer a name than we humans are used to, a little too formal and cumbersome."

Her lips twitched and Chakotay thought he could read incredulity in her expression and tone, "Seven of Nine is an _already_ shortened form of my full designation."

"I know, but still…" Kolopak paused to gather his thoughts on how to broach this, "Your human name is Annika, why don't you let us call you that?" He saw the expected unease cross her face and tried to reassure her, "It's a very pretty name, it suits you, don't worry."

She shifted awkwardly, eyes downward. "If you address me as Annika Hansen I doubt I will respond. I don't remember a time when I was called by that designation; Seven of Nine is all I am familiar with."

"Okay…" Kolopak conceded slowly. "How about Seven then? It's familiar to you, but still concise enough for us."

Her brows, one blonde, one metal, both crinkled. "A diminutive?"

"Of sorts." Kolopak agreed, "Like how Chakotay's real name is Amal, but we call him Chakotay."

Seven shot Chakotay a bemused look. "That example seems to defeat the purpose of a diminutive; Chakotay contains _more_ syllables than Amal."

Chakotay found himself chuckling and ran a hand through his hair, "Maybe not the best example in the world to give her Dad."

"No." Kolopak said sheepishly, "But is Seven okay for you?"

She seemed to think about it for a moment or two. "Imprecise, but…adequate."

Kolopak and Chakotay shared a triumphant and relieved smile. "Adequate will do just fine then Seven." Kolopak told her happily.

**A/n: Not as much happened in this chapter as I planned, I was going to make it longer, but I'm out of time for now. I hope you still enjoyed it though. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	5. Lessons in Compassion and Swimming

Chakotay groaned in agitation as he glared down at the incomprehensible list of math formula and their attached questions. He sensed, rather than saw, his father's raised eyebrow as Kolopak said, "What's wrong son?"

"Nothing…" Chakotay muttered through gritted teeth before admitting as he lifting his head to meet his father's eyes, "Just wondering how I'm ever going to pass math this year."

Kolopak smiled sympathetically, "Why don't you take a break for a little while?" he suggested, lifting the PADD off his son's lap and switching it off, "How about you take Seven out for a walk? She's hardly seen anything of our beautiful world except the hospital and this house."

Seven, who had unobtrusively been tidying the kitchen after lunch, or more accurately, arranging the cupboards to suit her ideals of efficiency, whirled sharply around to face them. "I do not wish to disrupt Chakotay's studies; I have no reason to go outside."

Kolopak laughed, "That's precisely why you should go my dear, and then you can appreciate the countryside without rushing off to complete some chore." Seeing that both teens were frowning at him, he pushed further, "You two need to get out and smell the roses, while you still can."

Chakotay straightened his tall frame and pulled his father aside, "I don't think its safe Dad, I know the villagers were told about her by the Elders, but they might not take well to having a Borg…"

Kolopak studied his anxious face seriously, "This house isn't a convent Chakotay, she needs to get out." He glanced concernedly at the bags under Chakotay's eyes, "And so do you, there is such a thing as studying too hard you know."

Chakotay couldn't stop his shoulders dropping sulkily as he realised his father was going to keep pushing this and turned back to Seven, snatching up a light coat as he did so, "It doesn't seem we have much choice in the matter. Come on Seven." Wordlessly, with only a diffident nod in Kolopak's direction, Seven followed him out of the back door.

* * *

><p>They walked in silence for the first couple of miles, the only sounds either heard as they skirted the newly sown fields the occasional trill of mating birds and the rustle of grass underneath. Finally, after spending the entire journey so far scanning the area meticulously with her enhanced eye, Seven lost patience and stopped abruptly. "Where exactly <em>are<em> these roses?" she asked with irritation in her tone.

Chakotay was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he probably wouldn't have noticed she'd stopped walked if his mind hadn't gradually tuned itself to her marching footsteps and realised he no longer heard them. "Roses?" he asked in bemusement after taking a few seconds to process her out of the blue question, "There aren't any roses yet, they don't bloom until summer and even then only in some people's gardens. They're Earth plants after all."

Seven's discontented frown deepened. "I do not understand. If there are no roses, why would your father direct us to smell them?"

"What? Oh…" Chakotay bit his lips to stop a smiling forming as realisation dawned. "He wasn't _actually _telling us to smell flowers Seven. It's a human saying, he was telling us to pause and enjoy life."

Seven nodded slowly, and then sighed, "I doubt I will ever fully understand the human attachment to metaphor."

Chakotay stopped at the top of a hill and glanced back at her as she came to join him. "It just makes our language a little less…utilitarian I suppose, more interesting."

"Perhaps." Seven said without much confidence before pointing out the thick patch of forest that started halfway down the hill. "What do your people use that land for? Surely they could clear it and make more farmland."

Chakotay lowered his head sheepishly, unsure how he should explain. "It's a sacred forest, one of the oldest on the planet. The religious among us think it would anger the Sprits to fell it."

Seven's eyebrow shot up, but her face remained otherwise impassive as she said, "It seems to me that your people's beliefs obstruct their progress somewhat."

He smiled wryly as they descended the hill and went under the canopy of trees. "I couldn't agree with you more there, but it's just the way it is here."

* * *

><p>They had been walking several more minutes when Chakotay heard Seven stop again, taking a sharp intake of breath as she did so."What is it?" he asked softly when he saw how captivated her gaze was.<p>

"Look." She whispered, pointing just ahead through the trees, admiration in her blue eyes.

He smiled when he saw what she meant; he had seen it so often he'd almost forgotten. The silvery rock face onto which the forest backed opened here in a clean gash, a crystalline waterfall, fuelled by snowmelt, gushing from the top and into a small pool set in the forest floor. "It's beautiful isn't it?" he said proudly.

She gave a reverential nod, "I can see why your people value this place." She agreed.

He sighed, she still expressed very human emotions through a drone's eyes, but she had them, at least partially. He saw more evidence of that with every day that passed. "Do you want to see the cavern behind the waterfall? Kids go in it all the time."

"Are we "kids"?" Seven asked, sounding truly uncertain.

She saw offence immediately flash across his chiselled face. "Well, _I'm_ not!" He said hotly before giving her a sidelong glance, "I'm not sure about you…" His voice trailed off and he gave a small, almost apologetic, shrug, "Let's just go and have a look." He said decisively, heading off down the narrow track to the edge of the pond.

They had reached the small lip of rock that would wind around to the cavern's entrance and began to walk along it before they heard them, the sounds of other young human voices, taunting and excited. "Pa said we had enough dogs Hal, let's just hurry up and drown them." One voice said, but was quickly interrupted by another, who Chakotay and Seven both assumed was Hal.

"Let's have some fun first Luko." Hal replied. The sound of a foot hitting something, then a high pitched yelp, made disgust rise in Chakotay's stomach and his blood boil in anger.

He ran forward into the cavern, ignoring the spray of the waterfall, to see two youths of about fourteen and twelve kicking a large brown sack and cackling with laughter. "Hey!" he yelled, "What are you doing? Stop torturing that poor creature!"

The older boy, Hal's, lips twisted maliciously, "Yeah? Says who?"

"I say!" Chakotay retorted, becoming more and more enraged as they pointedly ignored him.

"Cease and desist!" Seven snapped suddenly from somewhere behind them. Chakotay couldn't help but feel pleasure surge through him as he saw their faces turn white with fear.

"It's that rogue Borg! Run! She'll kill us!" Hal shouted at Luko, who stood as if frozen for a few seconds as Seven approached before coming back to life and throwing the sack into the pond before bolting after Hal, who'd already scrambled from the cavern and up the wooded slope.

Chakotay watched them go with a sigh of satisfaction. "What a pair of thuggish bast…" He began to say to Seven before he realised she had disappeared. "Seven? Seven!"

A splashing sound resounded in his ears and then he saw her crown of golden hair bobbing in the pond, her enhanced arm holding the sack above her head. "I am here Chakotay!" she called to him, disappearing under the water again for a few seconds before resurfacing at the pool's edge.

"What the hell was that?" Chakotay shouted angrily as he heaved her out of the pool and onto the cavern floor, "You could've drowned, do you even know how to swim properly?"

"Obviously…the skill is rather simple." She replied breathlessly as she rung out her dripping hair, her gaze still intent on the sack. "What is it?"

Equally curious, Chakotay cautiously opened the bag to reveal a small white fluffy animal. "It's a puppy!" he exclaimed in disgusted disbelief, "They were trying to kill a puppy!"

"They were not successful." Seven said as she saw the animal move weakly. "But it is damaged…" She said quietly, Chakotay was surprised to hear real pity in her voice, but even more so when she pulled out a damp dermal regenerator from her back pocket.

"Where did you get…" Chakotay started to ask, then remembered the incident in her room a couple of weeks before and frowned, "You were supposed to return that to the medicine cabinet…"

She shrugged nonchalantly, her attention fixed on the young dog. "I kept it in case there were anymore…accidents."

Chakotay sighed, "Here, give it to me and you hold the dog." He saw panic cross her face as he laid it on her lap and smiled teasingly at her, "It'll be a lot more scared of you than you are of it Seven."

She glared at him, "Just repair it Chakotay."

* * *

><p>Thankfully the puppy's injuries were minor enough for Chakotay to deal with himself, he was soon finished and laid the regenerator to one side, smiling at Seven. "I think I've repaired most of the damage now Seven…" He told her, mimicking her Borg vocabulary. "It's a he by the way." He added, but was disturbed by her distant, troubled expression as she stroked the puppy in her lap. "What's wrong?"<p>

She allowed herself a small sigh, "Those boys, they thought I would kill them…" She said shakily.

Chakotay winced, wishing he'd forgotten his morals and punched their lights out before she'd had to hear that. "They were just a pair of ignorant scum…"

She laughed, it was the first time he'd heard her laugh at all, and instead of joy, it held fear and bitterness. "True." She agreed. "But I am Borg and they have done worse things on a greater scale. I will be judged worse than them, even though I do not understand such pointless violence."

"It's a _good_ thing not to understand cruelty, I'd like to go through life never understanding." Chakotay told her earnestly, not liking where her train of thought was leading her.

She ignored him, it was as if he wasn't there at all. "I, as an individual drone, was never actually active. From the day of my assimilation to the day the malfunction on the Cube released me, this body was in a maturation chamber. My implants were fully integrated, but my organic systems were still immature, I was to have stayed in there for another two years, three months, six days…"

Chakotay quickly calculated from the day of the crash, gasping when the answer came, she'd have been released to assimilate people on her eighteenth birthday. "Seven, try not to feel guilty, you just said you never actually _did_ anything to anyone…"

"You do not understand." She said dismissively, "There is no _I_ in the Collective, no individual responsibility, we are all one mind doing those things you despise."

"Well, you're not Borg anymore!" Chakotay snapped, "Come on, we're going home." She seemed to come back to herself then, returning to normal, and glanced down at the puppy. "He can come too, let's go!"

* * *

><p>They walked back the rest of the way in silence. Seven watched his lithe back stomping in front of her, perhaps her words had unsettled him, caused offence? Despite trying to dismiss that fear as irrational, and above all, irrelevant, she found that the idea of his being upset with her bothered her. Quickly she shifted the puppy in her arms and sprinted to his side, "I will assist with your mathematics homework when we return if you wish." She offered quietly.<p>

He whirled around to face her and she saw a surprisingly boyish grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of the soaked young Borg with a puppy under one arm, looking at him with concerned eyes, "Sure." He replied pleasantly.

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" Kolopak asked as soon as they were in the door, Sekaya at his shoulder. "What's that?" He asked as he peered at the animal in Seven's arms.<p>

"A puppy." Seven replied bluntly, answering only the second question and not the first, which Chakotay took up.

"There were these two kids trying to drown him in the waterfall pool in the forest Dad." Chakotay explained. "Seven jumped in and fished him out."

"Aww, poor baby!" Sekaya cried out, immediately reaching out for the puppy, but Seven drew back with him.

"It's not a baby Sekaya." She corrected her seriously, making Sekaya laugh at the misunderstanding.

Kolopak frowned at Seven, "You jumped into that icy snowmelt? You'll get a chill!" He admonished in a fatherly tone before his brow creased in curiosity, "Why did you do it?"

This question seemed to stump Seven, she even seemed embarrassed, "I…I am uncertain…" She stammered, "I felt it was wrong…somehow, to leave him to drown."

Kolopak nearly hugged her, but instead he smiled proudly. "That's called compassion Seven."

She looked mortified, "Compassion is irrelevant to the Borg."

"But not to humans, to humans it's the most vital thing there is." Kolopak told her seriously.

"Chakotay told me that you showed compassion towards me…" She said uncertainly.

Kolopak caught his son's eye, pleased. "He's right, I did, and you showed some to this little guy here." He saw Sekaya bringing a saucer of milk and mashed meat over and said, "How about we try to feed him?"

Seven lowered the puppy to the floor, frowning when he only sniffed the plate, "He does not know how to eat."

"Neither did you when you first came, remember? I had to teach you." Kolopak reminded her.

Chakotay saw Sekaya's face pale and knew his had too. Was that the reason Kolopak had taken Seven's meals into her at first, a privilege they'd been jealous of, because she didn't know how to chew, or even swallow? Pity overwhelmed him and once again he saw her on a different level.

Sekaya interrupted, her voice somewhat high- pitched, and Chakotay knew she had the same thoughts running through her head, "What do you want to call him? He looks like a wolf to me, Wolf would be a good name."

Chakotay snorted as he looked down at the fluffy little puppy in Seven's lap, who was now tentatively feeding him with her fingers, yes, he had the thick grey-white coat, slightly curled tail and alert ears, but that was where the similarity to a wolf ended. "Don't be silly Sekaya, he's more like some sort of husky, not a wolf!"

Seven nodded, "I agree, to name a dog Wolf would be a misnomer."

Sekaya's eyes narrowed at them, feeling ganged up on, "So what do you two want to call him then?"

Seven shrugged wordlessly and Chakotay had to ponder for several minutes before answering, "How about…Lucky?"

"An appropriate name, considering the situation of his arrival." Seven said.

Kolopak forced his arthritic knees to push him off the floor. "Lucky it is then, but Lucky's going to be looked after by you three, understood?"

"Yes!" They all chorused.

**A/n: I hope this chapter wasn't too frivolous of me, and that they were in character! PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	6. Seven's School Daze

Kolopak rubbed his eyes, trying to encourage wakefulness as he walked from his bedroom towards the kitchen. It was Sunday, he supposed he could have had a lie in for once, but he didn't want to come across as a hypocrite to his teenage children, given that under normal circumstances he was always nagging them to get up and enjoy the day. He headed for the kettle on autopilot, he hated replicated tea with a passion, and began to rummage around for his favourite cup, until that is, the smell of freshly brewed tea hit his nostrils and he realised the cup was sitting in front of him, already filled to the brim and waiting for him. "What? Who…" He began to mutter in confusion.

"Good morning. Is the tea acceptable?" He turned around at Seven's voice to see her watching him from the couch, Lucky's head in her lap.

He felt his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, "Did you make this for me Seven?"

"Yes." She replied, her posture stiffening as if she feared disapproval, "I have observed that you always have a cup of tea around this time. Since I was awake before you, I thought it would be more efficient for me to have it prepared."

"That was very thoughtful of you." Kolopak praised her happily before taking a sip of the tea, "Perfect. Do you want some?" She shook her head and he nodded as he sat down beside her on the couch. "There's something I've wanted to discuss with you Seven."

Seven dipped her head in permission, "As you wish." She said impassively.

"Well…" Kolopak took a deep breath in as her intense gaze, which would have been disconcerting in an adult let alone a teenage girl, bored into him. "I think it's time you tried going to school."

Seven couldn't stop her body from giving a little start, making Lucky whimper and press his fluffy head into her hand. She hadn't been expecting that! "School?" she echoed. "But Kolopak, I have the knowledge of over a million assimilated species incorporated into my cortical node. Surely you don't doubt my intelligence so much as to…" She couldn't help hurt from seeping into her tone.

"No, no, that's not it at all!" Kolopak reassured her vehemently, "I meant it as more of a _social _learning exercise for you. School will teach you so many invaluable things, how to interact with new people, make new friends your own age…"

Seven didn't deny any of that, only the bow of her head and the way she continually stroked Lucky for comfort and reassurance told Kolopak she wasn't completely comfortable with the idea. Finally she looked up at him with wavering eyes, "Do…do you really think going to school will improve me?"

"Oh certainly, that's what it's for." He replied with calm certainty, giving her human hand a squeeze. "Don't worry, you won't be alone. The school is so small you'll be in the same class as Sekaya and probably Chakotay too."

Seven breathed a sigh of relief; she wasn't going to be abandoned with strangers…again. "If you believe it to be prudent Kolopak, I will do as you ask."

Her voice was so quiet and submissive that Kolopak felt guilt surge through him, perhaps he was pushing too hard, too soon. They'd only freed her two months ago after all. "Listen, if you're really not happy there, you don't have to go, but it's nearly the end of term anyway so I'd like you to give it a chance, okay?"

Seven was grateful for the compromise, her escape route, and found that she was pleased he was putting so much trust and confidence in her. Fixing a small smile in place she said, "Okay, I will."

* * *

><p>The next morning dawn clear and bright as Sekaya, Chakotay, and now Seven, left for school. It hurt Seven to leave Lucky shut in the kitchen, whining and paws scraping on the kitchen door, but Sekaya's enthusiastic gossiping about the school pushed her on, as well as the calming affect of Chakotay's guiding hand on her arm, and before she knew it they were in the classroom, fifteen pairs of eyes staring at her with rude inquisitiveness.<p>

The village school was so small all the teenagers who would have been considered to be in high school shared a teacher, meaning Chakotay did share classes with his younger sister and Seven, but it was lively enough that Seven's arrival created a real buzz. Seven felt panic rise within her as Chakotay was dragged away from her by other adolescent boys and she was surrounded by strangers, but there wasn't much he could do about it as he was bombarded by questions. "So this is the Borg your dad managed to hide from Starfleet?" Chakotay's best friend Kalai asked eagerly.

"Um…yeah." Chakotay confirmed awkwardly, his eyes still on Seven, who was getting shown off to Sekaya's friends as if she were a new doll. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with the fact that his family were hiding something from the organisation he hoped to dedicate his life to.

"I can see why you kept her to yourself Chakotay, even with all that metal, she's still a stunner!" Frenec, another one of his classmates, sneered lewdly.

Paloc, a crony of Frenec, whispered conspiratorially, "I wonder if I could programme her to be my girlfriend without me having to splash out on dates…"

Despite his low tone Chakotay heard him and bristled with a violent protective anger which surprised even himself. "_Don't_ speak like that about her, either of you." He growled at them.

"Getting a little possessive of your robot girl Chakotay? Remember, she's an individual now, she might decide she likes me…" Frenec taunted.

Chakotay felt himself grow flustered with anger and embarrassment, "She's not _mine_, I just don't think you should talk like…"

"Good morning class! Take your seats please." The friendly but commanding voice of their teacher Ms Lagoni rang through the room and Chakotay was forced to still his angry tongue and satisfy himself with shooting Frenec and Paloc seething glares across the room. Seven meanwhile, found herself frozen to the spot like a deer in headlights as everyone obeyed and sat in assigned seats, leaving her standing alone. Her turmoil was thankfully short-lived as the teacher addressed her in a gentle tone, "Hello, you must be Seven. I'm Ms Lagoni, come to me if you don't understand anything, okay?" Seven nodded mutely, allowing herself to be guided to a chair at the front of the room as she tried to ignore sensing everyone's eyes on her. The constant attention made her skin crawl.

* * *

><p>They spent the morning on a class wide talk about Federation history. Seven pondered on the parts they missed out, the unpalatable details the Collective had gleaned from the minds of assimilated officials over the years, but wisely decided not to pass on her knowledge, at least not here. "Now everyone get out their exercise books and write notes of what I've just told you, your homework tonight is going to be an opinion piece on the foundation of the Federation." Ms Lagoni ordered, generating a collective sigh across the room. Seven looked around her, expecting to be given a PADD on which to write, but instead all she could see was primitive sheets of paper and ink pens. Surely this planet wasn't so backward as to reduce their inhabitants to such inefficient methods! Slowly, she raised her hands as she'd seen her fellow pupils do throughout the day. "Yes Seven?" Ms Lagoni asked curiously when the strange girl, who she herself was having difficulty not staring at, raised her hand.<p>

"I cannot start this assignment Ms. Lagoni." She stated matter-of-factly.

"No, of course not. I'm sorry; I didn't consider that you wouldn't know much Federation history…" Ms Lagoni began apologetically.

"I am well versed in the origins of the Federation." Seven interrupted quickly, feeling a blush creep up her neck as the older woman stared at her, "But…I am unsure how to write in this manner…" She indicated the pen and paper in front of her. Seven actually felt physically sick as the whole room fell into a stunned silence, then was rocked by a few nervous giggles, she didn't hate anything more than admitting a weakness, a hole in her pursuit of perfection.

"Get back to your own work!" Ms. Lagoni snapped at her sniggering pupils when she saw Seven withdrawing into herself, what had Kolopak been thinking bringing this damaged girl here? Hurriedly she scanned the faces around the room, settling on Chakotay, the only one in the room not laughing, with relief. "Chakotay, would you help her please?"

"Yes ma'am." Chakotay agreed, rapidly pulling up a chair to Seven's desk and sitting down beside her. Seven gritted her teeth, her mood sinking even lower with the fact that Chakotay had to dig her out of this humiliating hole. He didn't seem to mind much through, "Watch me Seven." He instructed, copying out the alphabet in block capitals and then small letters before positioning the pen in her hand, "Now you try."

Seven began to copy out the letters, her untrained hand agonisingly slow. Irritated she hissed in Chakotay's ear, "And why do your people prefer this method?"

He smirked at her wryly, "Apparently it builds character."

Seven sighed and took in her surroundings again, upset when she realised that all the girls in the room were glaring at her. Unconsciously she shifted closer to Chakotay and Sekaya, watching the whole scene, felt sympathy for both. Neither of them realised they were a target for jealousy!

* * *

><p>"This formula…" Ms Lagoni indicated the senior grade algebraic formula she'd just copied from the textbook. "Please show what <em>x<em> equals."

Quick as a flash, before the words were even fully out of the teacher's mouth, Seven answered, "_x_ equals 9."

"This isn't a calculator question Seven." Ms. Lagoni replied patiently.

Seven shot her a quizzical look. "I do not require assistance to answer that equation."

Ms. Lagoni looked at her incredulously, "Wait, are you saying you did that mentally?"

"Yes." Seven replied simply.

"Show me how." Ms Lagoni handed Seven the interactive pen for the board. Seven stood up, unsure why the teacher cared, it was simple after all, and set to writing down what her mind had concluded in 0.89 seconds.

"Amazing…" Ms Lagoni breathed when she saw Seven had finished, flicking through the textbook for the most difficult math formula she could find. "Do this one too."

Seven glanced at it, a small sigh Chakotay recognised as frustrated boredom leaving her lips. "May I elaborate on it?" she asked after a small pause.

"Of course." Ms Lagoni agreed disbelievingly. Quickly Seven plunged into writing the most complex and multi layered math formula she'd ever seen, it seemed to be drifting into Physics by the time she'd finished, filling the computerised board many times over. "What is that exactly?" She asked her Borg pupil, earning shocked looks from her class.

"It's just simple warp theorem, I thought the class might find it more useful to learn." Seven replied honestly. Frowning when she turned around to see everyone looking at her agape, she turned back to the still stunned looking teacher, "Perhaps…I do not require any further mathematics tuition at this time." She concluded quietly, getting rigorous nods of agreement from everyone in the room.

**A/n: Not my best chapter ever but PLEASE REVIEW anyway! :D I hope no one's getting annoyed at me for prioritising this story over the last few days, I will go back to all my others soon, don't worry, it's just that the ideas are flowing thick and fast for this one. **


	7. Misunderstandings

Chakotay heaved an exasperated sigh as he stared down at his overflowing suitcase. He'd always considered himself a relatively organised person, but the last couple of days of frantic preparation for exchanging his family home for Starfleet Academy had taught him otherwise. Anxiety churned in his stomach as he glanced at a family photograph, one of his parents, Sekaya and himself standing in the garden about five years ago, taken before his mother had gotten ill or he and his father had inked their distinctive tattoos on their foreheads. The thought clawed at his mind while he stared at it was that maybe his father was right, maybe he'd never be accepted there and would lose his place here if he left? Gulping hard he walked over to his open wardrobe, empty excepting the crisp Starfleet cadet's uniform that had been sent out for him all the way from Earth, they were far too prestigious to be replicated after all, and ran his fingers up the sleeve, imagining multiple gold pips on the collar with a smile. He _had_ to be doing the right thing; he'd wanted this for years…

"Whoa, have you got any clothes left to wear to the party tonight?" Sekaya asked incredulously from behind him as she entered his room; it was in such disarray that it looked as if some sort of natural disaster had hit this part of the house.

Chakotay frowned at her irritably, "Yes, I do have something to wear tonight, not that I wouldn't take any excuse not to go."

"It's _your_ going away party! Why are you so damned ungrateful? I've put a lot of effort into planning it for you…"

"Well, maybe because I have a lot of better things to do than listen to your friends rant about the Cardassians and Starfleet, and because I know you're only throwing it as an excuse to invite Ryac over here without Dad being suspicious."

Sekaya flushed at the mention of her obviously not so secret boyfriend, "So what if I am? Once you're gone, Dad's going to be watching me like a hawk…"

Chakotay sighed in exasperation; he'd had enough of being berated by his baby sister for having the nerve to leave her in this backwater while he went off to enjoy himself on cosmopolitan Earth. "He's not that bad…" He retorted defensively, "Have you ever considered that you might need some of that protection to stop you doing anything stupid?"

"Protection from what exactly?" Seven inquired curiously as she appeared at the doorway with Lucky, now well on the way to being full grown and her near constant companion, by her side. "This planet is impressively peaceful."

"Nothing!" the siblings reassured her in unison, neither of them in the mood for dealing with Seven's social naivety, before Sekaya took Seven's arm, "Come on, let's leave my brother to his grouchiness and go and get ready for the party shall we?" she asked cheerfully.

Seven glanced down at her cropped trousers and lightweight top, "What is wrong with this attire? It's only our classmates and neighbours attending the party."

Chakotay chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, why do we have to change Sekaya?" he teased.

Sekaya shot him a hot glare and quickly made an excuse to Seven, "Because I asked everyone to dress up quite fancy Seven, so that Chakotay will see us all at our best before he goes."

"Oh…" Seven mumbled, giving Chakotay an unreadable sidelong glance before nodding her acceptance. "If that is what you have arranged Sekaya then I will of course do as you wish."

Sekaya beamed a satisfied smile. "Great! I'll go and get ready and then we'll deal with you okay?"

Seven nodded silent assent, breathing a heavy sigh as Sekaya disappeared into her room, catching Chakotay's eye and sharing a small knowing smirk with him before her eyes scanned the messy room with a professional eye. Walking up to the suitcase in her fallback stance of poker straight spine and hands tucked behind her back, she asked in a businesslike tone, "Would you like me to assist you?"

Chakotay nodded gratefully, although he knew she was offering to avoid Sekaya's prodding and primping for as long as possible. As he joined her in folding clothes, he muttered quietly in exasperation, "Sisters!"

Seven laughed softly, "I concur."

* * *

><p>"I say we lobby the Federation to come and kick the Cardassians out of our backyard before they think of any peace treaty!" Halan, the older brother of Frenec, argued as he sipped a drink on the Kotay's patio that night.<p>

"That's why we're sending Chakotay, to convince them of just that!" Frenec replied, "Or is he just going to see if a year on an interplanetary research mission is even more boring than living here?"

Laughter echoed around the group of young men, only Chakotay stayed silent. Normally, he didn't let the words of idiots like Frenec and Halan get to him, but tonight was the exception because he'd been hearing doubts and forebodings about his Starfleet career all night, not just from teasing students in his old school class but from practically every generation in the village. True, he'd always been dimly aware that his going to Starfleet would be a contentious issue, there were all the border issues Starfleet never bothered with even as the war with the Cardassians raged on in other sectors and then the fact that for many of his people Starfleet was the antithesis of what they were trying to achieve here, a world were they could carry on their traditions in peace with little or no interference from the 24th Century. Why couldn't they accept and be supportive of his decision? His family was…to a point.

He sighed and abandoned his plate of barbeque on a nearby table, suddenly desperate to be alone, heading off determinedly into the peace and quiet of the forest.

* * *

><p>Seven shivered, odd considering it was a balmy, almost airless, late August evening, and backed away further from the crowd around the house, her new heels sinking into the garden's dark soil. She couldn't help feeling tense, trapped, even though the rational part of her mind told her she was in no danger with these people, she couldn't shake off her feelings of inadequacy and discomfort. Wiping her sweat damped brow and adjusting the chiffon skirt of her dress, she headed towards Kolopak's tool shed where she'd last caught sight of Sekaya, hoping for some familiar unintimidating company. Hearing talking inside the structure, she cautiously opened the door a little further, only to see Sekaya and Ryac standing together, their lips tentatively meeting. "Sekaya, what are you doing?" she asked bluntly.<p>

The pair sprang apart, red faced. Sekaya felt anger flood her at being interrupted during her first _ever_ kiss with Ryac, but as she read Seven's bemused face, she knew she'd have to explain it away satisfactorily enough that the Borg didn't go and ask her father what it meant. "I…was just congratulating Ryac on getting accepted for college Seven, that's all."

Ryac hurriedly backed her up, "Yeah Seven, that's what humans do when they're…congratulating."

"Oh…of course." Seven agreed, not wanting to reveal her utter lack of knowledge or understanding. "Where's Chakotay?"

Sekaya shrugged, "I'm not sure, I think he went into the forest for a break from everyone."

Seven nodded hurriedly and left them as quickly as she'd appeared. Ryac couldn't help but smirk, "I can't believe she swallowed that excuse!"

Sekaya hit him on the arm. "Don't be mean!" She exclaimed defensively, "Seven's entitled to be a little naïve; she's not even been free from the Collective for six months yet for Sprits' sake!"

* * *

><p>Chakotay kicked loose stones around under his feet as walked aimlessly through the forest. Am I really doing the right thing? What if… His thoughts were unceremoniously interrupted by a voice somewhere behind him, "Chakotay? What are you doing out here?"<p>

He whirled around to Seven standing under a tree, obviously uncomfortable in the ridiculous silver heels Sekaya had chosen for her, but otherwise he had to admit that otherwise she looked pretty good in the outfit Sekaya had chosen for her, a sky blue halter dress with a ruche bodice and chiffon knee length skirt. Even her hair had been coaxed out of her customary up-do and was spread in all its golden glory over her metal mottled shoulders. He was stunned enough to pause before answering her, "I…don't know, just thinking I guess."

Seven studied his face, the way his strong, tattooed brow was crinkled in a deep frown, and a thought she might have put down to intuition, if she had been familiar with the concept, left her mouth as a question, "About your decision to join Starfleet?"

Chakotay gave a start in surprise, was he really _that_ easy to read? "Yeah, I suppose. That and a lot of other things." She frowned at him and he laughed weakly, "Okay, mostly that." He admitted.

"Why do you want to join Starfleet?" she asked abruptly.

His face lit up despite his surprise, Seven had never once commented on his plan to join Starfleet before now, but maybe he would finally get some support. "To explore the galaxy, learn and experience new things, everything I can't get here."

To his dismay he saw that she was frowning at him, incomprehension in her blue eyes. "The pursuit of more knowledge is admirable…" She began honestly, "But why do you wish to leave, cut yourself from your people, your family…your Collective?"

At her words Chakotay felt the anger and frustration that had been building up inside him all night explode. "Okay, I understand everyone else making that point, but you of all people? How can _you_ have the nerve to throw that back in my face?" he shouted. "I'm not abandoning anything! All I'm doing is what I want, expanding my horizons, becoming more of an individual, without relying on other people all the time! Not that you'd know much about that…" He stopped mid rant, inches away from her pale face, when he saw tears of hurt forming in the pale orbs and felt guilt at what he'd just said wash relentlessly over him as he wished he could take back what he'd just said, "I'm sorry Seven, that was callous of me, I didn't mean that you…"

Seven shook her head and stepped back from him, "No, you were correct. I will never have the same level of individuality as you have." She stated matter-of-factly, though Chakotay saw her throat moving momentarily in a gulp. "I apologise for impinging my judgements on yours and I hope you enjoy Starfleet."

He smiled at her in relief. "Thanks Seven…" He began to say but was interrupted by the sudden brush of her lips on his, "What was_ that_ for?" he choked out in shock as she pulled back as quickly as she'd come.

Seven frowned up at him in confusion, unsettled by the way her pulse had suddenly increased and the underlying suspicion that she'd just done something very wrong. "Sekaya did that to Ryac when she was congratulating him on getting into college, they told me it was a human tradition."

"Did they now?" Chakotay said quietly, feeling bad at what he'd automatically assumed, _of course_ it was just a misunderstanding! "Well, I think Sekaya should have told you that it's more normal to kiss someone on the cheek if you're congratulating them." He advised gently, not wanting to embarrass her.

"Oh…I apologise for my mistake." Seven replied, lowering her head for a moment before looking back up into his face, her expression serious. "I wanted to warn you that the vast majority of assimilated humans originate from Starfleet ships, please be vigilant."

"I will be. I don't intend to ever be assimilated Seven, not after what they did to you." He replied softly, touched by her concern and relieved that no awkwardness existed between them that would've made his last two days at home difficult!

Seven nodded silently in agreement. "I am returning to the party now, do you wish to stay here?"

"No, I'm just coming." He answered as she turned abruptly on her heel and walked towards the house. Sprits, I am going to _kill_ Sekaya for telling her that! If Seven had made that mistake with another guy she could've got taken advantage of! He raged mentally as he followed her, absently licking his tingling lips. On second thought, maybe it's too embarrassing to admit how I know…

**A/n: Oh, I REALLY hope you like this! ****PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! ****:D**


	8. Graduation

**A/n: I forgot to say in my "Fascination" update yesterday but XxTheGothicBumblebee was published a new C/7 one shot. It covers Seven's thoughts about her assimilation, her family, her time on Voyager and her own daughter. It's great! :D**

San Francisco, Earth. July 2367.

Chakotay shifted the rickety chair he was sitting on further into the shade and took another grateful swig of his ice cold water, shrugging off the jacket of his cadet uniform and resting it on the back of the chair as the café's waitress approached. "Are you ready to order sir?" she asked politely.

"I'm waiting for someone…" He began to say but stopped as he saw Sekaya's unmistakable form running up the street, by the time she reached the small café in whose outdoor tables he sat she was breathless. He smiled apologetically at the waitress, "I'll have a Caesar salad and another water please."

"Same for me." Sekaya added as she sank into the chair across from him. As the waitress departed, she smiled teasingly at her brother, giving a small salute. "Good afternoon Ensign."

Chakotay tugged at the bare collar of his cadet's uniform, "I'm not quite an Ensign yet, not until after the ceremony tomorrow."

"I know, I know, your graduation. I'll be there. Why do you think I left New York while all the end of term parties were still going on?"

Chakotay laughed, "I take it you're still enjoying NYU then?" Sekaya had started her art course the last September.

Sekaya shrugged, "The exams were a bit of a downer, but…" She halted, leaning over the table and saying in a low tone, "What do you think of the peace treaty?"

"The one between the Federation and the Cardassians?" Chakotay asked, earning raised eyebrows from his little sister. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the subject was a big bone of contention between cadets in the dorms, he said, "It's great that they've finally left Bajor…"

"And coming to Dorvan V." Sekaya added darkly.

"What?" Chakotay asked in disbelief, "What do you mean? The terms of the treaty aren't fully public yet, it's speculation to say that the Cardassians will even ask for the colonies, let alone get them!" He exclaimed with flashing eyes, only controlling his tone when people at neighbouring tables began to stare at him.

Sekaya was temporarily stopped from replying by the arrival of their salads and took a forkful of lettuce and dressing before responding, "Well they _did_ ask, and they got. According to the messages everyone at home got, not only Dorvan V but all ten planets are being ceded to the Cardassians."

"How is that possible? The Cardassian colonists haven't been there half as long as some of us have…" Chakotay hissed, ignoring his food.

"Ask your Federation and Starfleet diplomats that question, not me." Sekaya retorted sharply, feeling guilty when her brother winced, "I'm sorry I said that, it was out of line." She squeezed his hand across the table as he nodded. "Dad didn't even want me to tell you, he said you've got enough to worry about with choosing a posting, but I think you've got a right to know."

"Of course I do!" Chakotay replied hotly before forcing himself to cool down a little, "What are they going to do?"

"An appeal to the Federation Council already been made, Dad and the Elders are putting their faith in that…" She sighed, making it obvious that she didn't share their hope, before brightening a little, "Seven's installing Borg enhanced scans on Dorvan's surface so we can track Cardassian movements. I told her she should build weapons, but Dad doesn't approve so she won't."

"We don't want to give the Cardassians an excuse to attack before we've thrown their stupid treaty out Sekaya." Chakotay reminded her quietly, his stomach churning.

"What if it doesn't get thrown out? What if you and your Starfleet buddies are sent out to evict our people?" asked Sekaya in a harsh whisper.

Chakotay stiffened, "Well, I'd resign, and so would every other officer with a jot of honour." He answered bluntly, staring at his plate to avoid Sekaya's sad expression as he changed the subject, "So, is building scans the only thing Seven's doing?"

Sekaya shot him a curious look, "Don't you keep in touch with her?"

"I do, but Seven's not much of a phone person. How's she doing?"

"Helping Dad, roaming around the planet with Lucky fixing machinery, what she always did. She's a great cook now though." Sekaya reported with a smile, " She's as blunt as ever, but a little less naïve I think…"

"We all are. It's been three years." Chakotay smiled nostalgically as he thought back to his last few months at home. "How's Dad doing, really?" he enquired in concern.

Sekaya sighed, "He's getting old Chakotay, and this stress with the Cardassians isn't doing him any good. I'm glad he took in Seven now, if she wasn't there with him at least one of us would need to be at home…"

Chakotay frowned at her, "Don't you think she should be given a chance to leave too?"

Sekaya laughed lightly, "Dad would let her go if she really wanted to, just like he did with us, but she doesn't seem to. Maybe some peace and quiet after that time with the Borg is all she wants. I honestly don't know if she'd cope with it here anyway, I remember the time she caught me kissing Ryac, just before you left, I got the worst telling off of my life for that, which I don't really understand because _you _were the one that kissed her…"

Chakotay flushed in mortified embarrassment, "You _know_ about that? How?"

"Seven told Dad. I think she was worried she'd offended you or something…" She smirked at her brother, "…which I highly doubt by the way, and you know how honest she is…"

"I know now." Chakotay muttered, thinking that he should've made it clear to Seven at the time that there was no need to tell his Dad.

"Don't worry, it was a long time ago." Sekaya said soothingly, growing bored of teasing her brother on this front, instead moving on to another, "How's Megan?"

"Megan?" Chakotay repeated, his mind going blank for a second.

Sekaya laughed at him, "You know, with the dyed blonde hair and the habit of wearing super tight mini skirts?"

"Oh, we broke up a month or two back." Chakotay admitted before adding, "You only met her once, how do you know if she always wore tight skirts or not?"

"Because she was such an airhead that would be the only thing that attracted you to her." Sekaya replied, quick as a whip.

Chakotay gave an embarrassed laugh as he realised her words were probably true. "Come on, she wasn't _that _bad…"

"Yeah, she was!" Sekaya giggled before summoning the waitress, "Check please!" she called, pulling out her purse.

"I'll get it Sekaya…" Chakotay began but she waved him off.

"Think of it as a belated birthday and a graduation present rolled into one, okay big brother? I'll see you tomorrow!" She gave him a hug, paid the bill and left the table with the speed of a tornado, leaving Chakotay to process all that she had said.

* * *

><p>Chakotay breathed a deep sigh as he finished buttoning up his dress uniform the next day and glanced around the small dorm room which had been his home for the last three years. He couldn't believe that this was his last day at the Academy! Next he'd be moving on to quarters on a starship, that is, if one of his applications was accepted… He jumped out of these thoughts when the phone rang and ran to answer it, smiling in surprise when he was met with the smiling face of Commander Benjamin Sisko, First Officer of the U.S.S Saratoga, his first choice vessel. He saluted quickly, "Commander Sisko sir, what can I do for you?"<p>

Sisko smiled at him, "At ease Cadet. I'm calling to tell you that you've been accepted on to the new crew of the Saratoga, and to make a request."

"That's wonderful news!" Chakotay exclaimed breathlessly, "Thank you so much…" He stopped there, realising he was beginning to rant. "What kind of request sir?"

"That you report for duty tonight, after your graduation of course. The Saratoga's being sent to help the Enterprise out of a bit of trouble of some sort…" He shrugged apologetically, "I'm not sure what kind to be honest, just that we're flying out to Wolf 359. Are you happy with that? I know most cadets expect some leave with their families…"

"Not me sir, they couldn't leave home right now." Chakotay replied quickly, "I'll be there."

* * *

><p>"Amal Kotay, graduating with honours." Admiral Thomson announced from the podium and Chakotay headed up to get his single gold officers' pip with shaking knees. "Well done Ensign." The Admiral told him warmly as he pinned the pip to his collar.<p>

"Thank you." Chakotay replied in a stunned whisper as he moved away, only to be struck with cheers that shocked him even more.

"Yay, go Chakotay!" His eyes swivelled round to see Sekaya cheering her head off with his beaming father and a cloaked figure beside her.

Laughing in surprise, he made a rather undignified jump off the stage and ran to embrace his father, "Dad! I can't believe you're here!"

Kolopak squeezed his son's shoulders, his eyes gleaming with pride. "You achieved what you set out to do, how could I miss that?"

"Thank you." Chakotay whispered, hugging him again before peering into the face of the hooded figure, seeing the telltale gleam of silver he half expected. "Seven!" he exclaimed in surprised delight.

"Hello Chakotay. I congratulate you on your graduation." She said clearly, flashing him a rare smile from beneath the hood that disguised her Borg heritage from the crowd.

Chakotay smiled back at her, then looked at Sekaya in disbelief, "Did you know about this?"

"They wanted to surprise you!" Sekaya laughed defensively.

"Well you did." Chakotay assured them, "You want me to show you around?"

They all nodded and soon they were all walking together, Kolopak and Sekaya slightly in front with Seven and Chakotay in behind them. "Have you been given a starship post yet Chakotay?" Seven asked.

He couldn't stop himself from puffing up with pride, "Yes, the Saratoga. In fact…" He leaned closer into her, "I'm leaving for a mission tonight, but don't tell Dad and Sekaya yet, I want to tell them myself."

Seven nodded. "What sort of mission?"

"I'm not sure, something to do with the Enterprise around Wolf 359." He replied. When she asked nothing more, he told her softly, "I'm really glad you came Seven, I know it was a risk for you to come here, I really appreciate it."

Seven smiled shyly, "I believe the human expression is "I wouldn't have missed it for the world.""

**A/n: I hope you don't mind the time jump! PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed, it's my brother's 18****th**** birthday and I have to get ready for going out. **


	9. Wolf 359

**A/n: Two authors have started their first C/7 stories. Teal06 has put up the first two chapters of a brilliant story called "The Next Step" and Melanie-Baker has also begun one called "Time Frame Clash". Please support these new stories! :D**

"How is the sensor sweep looking Ensign?"

Chakotay flushed slightly as the realisation dawned on him that Captain O'Dell had been speaking to him, his head immediately snapping up from the console to meet the eyes of the Captain but found that the older man had his eyes fixed on the viewscreen, which showed that the space around the Saratoga was eerily empty, almost too peaceful. "Ev…Everything seems normal sir…" He reported, stuttering slightly. Sprits, does every new ensign make such a mess of their first shift on the Bridge or is it just me? He cringed internally. Despite his verbal trip up, the senior officers seemed to take him at his word and settled back down into a productive silence, leaving Chakotay to his thoughts. As he stared down at the console he couldn't help thinking about what they would be facing, there had been no word for the first fleet of ships that had followed the Enterprise's tail since they'd entered the sector closest to Wolf 359 for over fourteen hours, the same sector the Saratoga and its accompanying fleet of 30 other ships had just entered at warp eight. Underneath the senior officers' aura of calm, Chakotay could sense tension and even fear. After all, how could a fleet of 10 Starfleet ships, let alone the famous Enterprise, just disappear? Suddenly a sickening feeling of dread swept through him, overwhelming the anxiety driven excitement that had prevailed over him before, and he wished with all his heart he hadn't left his family so abruptly, after their long trip out to see his graduation, just to be a part of this mission…

He shuddered as the perplexed, and slightly fearful, voice of the Tactical Officer cut through the silence like a knife, "Captain, I'm reading four Starfleet vessels and tens of others I can't Identify, they're exchanging weapons fire…"

"Get to those co-ordinates _now_ Lieutenant!" O'Dell ordered the pilot sharply and Chakotay felt the ship's hull surge forward beneath his feet as the Captain addressed the Tactical Officer directly, "What happened to the other six ships in the fleet Commander? Not to mention the Enterprise!"

The officer, a Trill Lt. Cmdr by the name of Denzin, glanced back down at the console, his hands shaking, "There's a huge mass of debris…it seems they've been destroyed sir."

"I want a visual on those ships as soon as we come within range!" Captain O'Dell ordered tersely after recovering from the shock of Denzin's words. "I want _everyone_ working to identify them before that; I want to know what we're dealing with here!"

Chakotay robotically obeyed, forcing himself not to think of the hundreds of people on those ships and instead focus on his console. He had to hold himself up against the console as he recognised the unknown ships' signatures as familiar, his legs sagging in horrified shock. "Borg… They're Borg Cubes Captain…" He gasped out, staring at the viewscreen, which was blurred by the speed the ship was going, expecting to see hundreds of Cubes suddenly pounce on them from nowhere.

O'Dell now stood up to face him, his face white with disbelief and anger, "What does an ensign fresh out of the Academy know about Borg? What little we know of them is highly classified…"

Chakotay felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt the disbelieving glares of everyone around him, what could he say? He knew it was the Borg because he'd seen a Cube crash in his family's field and he'd spent years living with a former drone as part of his family? "I…" He began in a near whisper but was interrupted by the crackle of the comm. system.

"This…this is Captain Underwood of the…U.S.S Churchill…" Chakotay gulped as he remembered that the Churchill was the head ship of their fleet, conceivably the first one to reach the battle between the remnants of the original rescue fleet and the Borg. "We are being…boarded by the Borg… In need of assistance…" Static cut her off until, "Captain Picard…captured…" With that last terrifying titbit, the comm. line gave out all together.

O'Dell jumped into action, "How long until we reach them Lieutenant?" he asked the pilot.

"1.3 minutes Captain." He replied in a shaky voice.

Chakotay tried to remember everything Seven had ever told him about the Borg in that miniscule amount of time, but the image that next filled the viewscreen blew every other consideration except for shock and fear out of his mind. The sky spread out before them was a dead void, a graveyard for Starfleet debris, eerily lit by the ghostly light show that was the weapons fire between their already straggly looking fleet and the hulking, indomitable geometrical shapes Borg vessels, he couldn't count how many. If he peered within the massive group he could see the Enterprise floating between them, dead in space.

A shock like an earthquake shook the ship and it took Chakotay a few seconds to realise it was a torpedo. "Shields at 60%...no, 30%!" Someone shouted in the din.

"Fire back! Get the repair crews moving!" Sisko ordered, pushing the volume of his voice to the limit.

"They're somehow beaming _through_ our shields Captain!" Denzin reported.

Chakotay's hand had barely tightened around the barrel of his phaser when a drone materialised right in front of him.

* * *

><p>"Kolopak, we will be too late in arriving at the boarding port if we do not leave now." Seven told her father figure impatiently as she walked into his room which adjoined her own in the hotel suite.<p>

He didn't move an inch on the couch he was sitting on, staring blankly at the computer screen in front of him, "We're staying here for now Seven."

Seven felt an inexplicable shiver of unease travel up her back at his oddly lifeless tone, but confusion pushed her to ask him, "Why? We only arranged to stay on Earth for four days before returning to Dorvan V."

"I don't think it would be wise to risk you being seen." Kolopak said firmly, yet he knew he'd have to explain when he caught Seven's quizzical look, after all he'd been allowing her relatively free roam, adequately disguised of course. "They finally got some reports back from Wolf 359…" He began slowly, "It's…the Borg. They're fighting to invade Earth…" He stopped painfully as he heard Seven's choked gasp and then the slam of her bedroom door as she bolted from him.

* * *

><p>The few seconds Chakotay stared at the Borg seemed like hours, until that is, Denzin's phaser fire made it's waxy face flinch, but, as Chakotay knew would happen, the next shot bounced harmlessly off its green body shield and the mangled limbs began to move determinedly forward, assimilation tubes already extended. Chakotay's mind raced as hopeless phaser fire flashed around him, if he did something utterly unexpected they may not react quickly enough… He thought and without really thinking it through he slammed his phaser into the drone's skull with all his strength, but another immediately materialised to replace the damaged one. Suddenly, Seven's voice echoed in his brain, "Borg can adapt to anything, but it takes time, even if we are as efficient as possible…"<p>

Glancing down at his now bloody phaser, he shouted at the Captain, "Set your phasers on a rotating frequency, that way they won't adapt as fast!"

The Captain looked at him in disbelief for a moment before remembering Chakotay's oddly high level of knowledge about the Borg and yelled to everyone, "Do as he says!"

The pilot fired first, almost whooping in joy as a drone dropped dead, but Chakotay ignored him as he came face to face with a drone coming up from behind the Captain and he aimed his phaser. The drone fell with a sickening thud on the floor and as Chakotay stared at the vacant face he felt sick to the gut. That man was the same as Seven had been, he'd just shot a prisoner of the Collective, an innocent being… The Captain's voice pulled him out of it, "Fall back to Engineering! We need to get this ship able enough to escape!"

* * *

><p>Chakotay stared out of the hospital ship's window, but his mind couldn't take in the images which confronted him outside, exploding pieces of debris, bodies floating, claimed as space's prize. He wondered how many more hundreds had been met with assimilation rather than death that day, he definitely would've preferred death, but for some reason he had been spared both. The Saratoga had been lucky, the only salvageable ship in a combined fleet of 40, most of its crew had lived, not that that was much comfort to Commander Sisko and his little boy, apparently he'd had to be dragged away from his wife's dead body…<p>

"Ensign Kotay?" Chakotay's hanging head swung up to be unexpectedly met by the smoke blackened face of Captain O'Dell.

"Yes sir?" He asked politely although his previous morbid thoughts were still draped over his traumatised mind like a shroud.

"I've put in a recommendation for you to be promoted to Lieutenant in recognition of your valour today. I don't know how you came up with those ideas to fight the Borg, but they're probably one of the main reasons the Saratoga is still with us."

Chakotay was stunned and could only mumble, "Thank you."

O'Dell squeezed his shoulder, "No, thank you Lieutenant. You saved my life too, remember?"

Chakotay could only nod dumbly as he left him, visions of the face of the drone he'd shot, overlaid with Seven's in his mind, overwhelming him with horror and disgust until he had to throw up in the nearby trash can, his body begging for relief. If this was the only way to get promoted, he'd happily stay a Lieutenant for the rest of his career.

* * *

><p>"Seven?" Kolopak called softly as he knocked lightly on her bedroom door, stepping in before she could stop him. He was shocked to see the room's computer console on and flashing alerts every few seconds, not that Seven, curled up on the bed facing the wall, paid them any attention whatsoever. "Honey, what have you been doing in here?" he asked her gently.<p>

She sniffed heavily before responding, "I hacked into Starfleet's comm. files for information…"

"Oh." Kolopak gulped, no wonder she was so distraught, he doubted they made very good reading, especially for someone with such in-depth knowledge of the Borg's capabilities. "You do realise that that's highly illegal don't you?"

Seven gave a short nod into her pillow, but said sharply, "Irrelevant."

"Yes, it is, now." He sat down at the edge of the bed. "I got a message from Starfleet about Chakotay…" He heard her painful intake of breath, "Chakotay's on the list of survivors, the Saratoga was the only ship that made it out…"

Seven cut him off, sitting up abruptly. "He's…He's not a drone?" she asked thickly. Kolopak winced in sympathy as he saw the ghostly tear tracks that stained her pale cheeks, obviously she'd been in here crying her heart out, which despite his affection for her and belief in her humanity, shocked him. After all she'd been through so much in the last three years without shedding as much as a single tear. She must be more attached to his family than her outer persona had ever led him to him to believe.

He put his arms carefully around her shaking shoulders and let her shyly hide her face in his shirt, rubbing her back soothingly, "No, he's coming right back here and we'll take him home with us."

**A/n: I hope this was okay, I know I'm not great at battle scenes, I probably could've have made that section longer and more detailed but I wanted to get it over with. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	10. Battles

**A/n: Thanks to TheFoundersDaughter for updating "Amy", Teal06 for updating "The Next Step" and Melanie-Baker for updating "Time Frame Clash". It's great to have so much C/7 to read. :D**

"Seven, are you sure you don't want to sit down?" Kolopak asked carefully as he observed her staring blankly out of the docking station's window to the gleaming blue seas of Earth below.

"Borg do not…" She began tersely without moving her gaze from the swirling patches of cloud, biting her lips as she corrected herself and turned her head to face her guardian before saying in a contrite murmur, "I'd…rather stand, thank you."

Kolopak sat back in one of the waiting area's uncomfortable chairs with a sigh, at least her rejection had been well mannered, and he knew she was tense about Chakotay's arrival so decided not to push her. "Transport 45890, Deep Space Three to Earth, now docking in Docking Bay 1." The Computer droned out from speakers somewhere above them.

Kolopak smiled in Seven's direction, "We're in the right place, he should be here any minute now." Seven nodded in acknowledgement of the comment but didn't follow Kolopak in moving closer to the doors Chakotay would soon be walking through, she had a feeling she would be the last person he wanted to see. She found her eyes travelling over her cybernetic hand, which gripped the edge of the window so tightly it looked even more inhuman than normal, how close had a similarly abused hand come to assimilating Chakotay? She shut her eyes as old memories, ones that were not strictly her own in the human sense but very much a part of her, overwhelmed her and screams filling her ears… A real voice, Kolopak's, broke the spell, "Chakotay!"

She wheeled around so quickly the hood obscuring her facial implants slipped momentarily, but she had time to fix it as the father and son embraced tightly, Chakotay's face hidden in his father's broad shoulder but she heard a murmur of "Thanks Dad…" as they finally pulled back and she got a proper view of his face. The rational side of her knew he was uninjured and felt relief, but she was also shocked by how hollow his handsome face was and creased with a permanent look of strain and exhaustion.

Kolopak of course noticed all the things Seven did, and many more, squeezing his son's shoulders supportively, "We were thinking of taking you home, are you alright with that?"

Chakotay ran a hand through his hair, his expression slightly glazed. "Yeah…I'm fine with that for now." He replied quietly, picking his small bag off the floor and swinging it over his shoulder.

"Right, good then." Kolopak replied after an uncertain pause, he'd really expected more resistance to his plan and felt worry sink deeper into his soul at his son's out of character lifelessness. He hurriedly beckoned Seven over, "Let's all go then, shall we?"

Seven watched Chakotay nod before following suit, peering into his face as she said, with her voice thick with unusual emotional sincerity, "I am relieved that you have returned unharmed Chakotay." The look she got in return was vacant, yet oddly piercing, as if he were looking straight through her, could feel her unease, but utterly ignored her. A shudder ran through her that she couldn't entirely hide, and desperately she spoke to fill the silence, "I…I am informed that you were promoted to Lieutenant…for your valour…" She stammered.

"Yes, well done son. I'm proud of you." Kolopak said warmly.

Chakotay pulled out of his father's grasp, "Valour?" he said bitterly, "The only thing I did different from others is survive." With that he began to stride ahead, "Which docking port are we going to Dad?" he asked abruptly.

"Number 5, son." Kolopak answered with a heavy note of sadness in his voice. "Come on Seven." She obeyed, but kept herself at least five paces behind them at all times. This was even worse than she had imagined, she had anticipated somewhat the hot flame of hatred, which she had hoped would fade in time, but not him acting as if she were not there, blocking out her existence entirely, she had no idea how to cope with that…

* * *

><p>The four day trip home was excruciating for all three of them. By the time they finally returned home, Kolopak could no longer tolerate the barrier that had formed between his son and adoptive daughter, he knew it was because of the trauma of the battle, but he also highly doubted Seven's unspoken, but obvious, belief that Chakotay now hated her, in fact he had a feeling that Chakotay <em>needed<em> Seven if he was going to get over this, and it was with these thought in mind that he entered Chakotay's room, Chakotay slumped over the desk, fingering his two Starfleet gold pips. Gingerly, Kolopak put his hand on his shoulder, "You know, you're shutting out the one person who could _possibly_ understand what you're going through."

Chakotay sat up sharply, "What? I don't know who you mean!" he said defensively.

Kolopak gave a small smile, "Seven."

Chakotay blanched and drew back, "Seven? No…I can't…"

"Now why not? I know you don't suddenly hate her, if that were the case you would've exploded at her by now." He caught Chakotay glancing down and smiled regretfully, "She was worried about you, _is _worried about you now…"

"I know…" Chakotay choked out, "I can't speak to her, every time I see her face I see the faces of the drones I had to shoot, they were so like her…when we first freed her, and even though they're all murdering shells of beings, who killed and assimilated without thought… I _still_ feel guilty about killing them! Sprits, if it hadn't been for the things I learned from Seven, they'd have got all 40 ships…" His voice cracked and he looked at his father pleadingly, "What I can I do?"

"Chakotay, you may not believe me now, but you've grown so much from the boy that left this house. There is no shame in feeling this level of guilt and confliction, taking something's life should _never_ be easy, but the drones have lost so much that for them it is, that is truly pitiful."

"I _never_ want to be like that Dad! Seven wanted to go back, she still wants to go back…" Chakotay said tightly.

"Talk to her, face your demons about this, I assure you Seven of Nine is not one of them." Kolopak ended the conversation there, leaving Chakotay to think it over.

* * *

><p>The cheerily shining sun seemed to be mocking Chakotay as he stepped outside into the garden where Seven stood, half-heartedly playing with Lucky. Cautiously he walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, making her jump violently, her face flushing as she realised who it was. "We need to talk." He told her quietly.<p>

She had to take a deep breath before nodding, keeping her eyes averted from his. "Where?"

"Somewhere cooler than out here." He replied, rubbing his already sweat dampened brow.

She studied the ground for a minute, the glanced at the hyperactive dog hopefully placing a ball at her feet. "We could go to that cave, the one where we found Lucky."

"Okay…" He agreed apprehensively and they began the walk in a silence that continued until they'd slipped behind the waterfall and into the cool, protective dark of the cave.

Seven waited until his back was completely turned on her before she spoke, her voice cold with saddened certainty, "You hate me. You remembered what I was, what I am, and that is a…a _monster_."

The lump forming in Chakotay's throat burst into in a frustrated cry at the last word and he spun around to face her, his eyes burning with emotion. "It's _not_ you that I hate, it's the entire thing! That I had to kill things that were once people, that such evil is possible, that all my friends are dead… It's not fair that I'm going to be guilty and scared for the rest of my life…"

"How do you think _I_ feel? All you did was defend yourself and others, free drones from the chains of the Collective, but I…" Her voice froze as tears filled her eyes but she forced them back, "I was complicit, I hate them more than you ever can and yet I fear that I can't live without them…" She felt her legs start to buckle as the words left her throat as a near scream but suddenly Chakotay's arms were around her holding her up.

"You _are _living without them Seven, right now." He breathed into her ear. She could feel his body shaking, in tandem with hers, but then the loudest explosion she'd ever heard made the ground itself shudder and they were wrenched apart.

"What was that?" Chakotay choked out in shock, their passionate exchange forcibly forgotten.

Seven didn't look at him, instead using her enhanced eye to study the looming shapes in the sky that blotted out the sun. "Cardassians." She whispered brokenly.

**A/n: I'm not really happy with this chapter, but PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	11. Shadows and Ashes

**A/n: This chapter is for Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay, who specifically requested I update this story. I hope you like this. :D**

"Cardassians." Chakotay felt his gut twist horribly within him as Seven's broken whisper hit his ears. He knew from the way her gaze focused on the far distant sky, blocking out everything else around her, that this was a statement of fact rather than speculation.

Despite this knowledge, his voice was still hot with denial as he exclaimed, "What? It can't be! We have a treaty…"

Seven shook her head, still intently watching something he couldn't see. "Not any more."

"How can you even tell it's them?" he asked, almost accusingly, as if her obvious fear was ludicrous, as if they were playing some sort of game.

Pain radiated in her eyes for a split second before she closed them, shutting him out from her feelings, when they opened again they had an odd pinched, withdrawn expression. "Look up." She murmured morosely.

He cringed, suddenly unwilling to confront whatever he would face. Taking a deep breath as the ground shook again, he slowly walked to the cavern's mouth, to the side least obscured by the waterfall's spray, and looked up. The sky was a faded blue, a sun-bleached, cloudless shade that was rarely seen on the sub-tropical Dorvan V, the sun a scorching merciless disk in the centre of it, filling even the canopied forest with shafts of white light. He stared up at it, oddly mesmerised, until suddenly a huge looming dark shape snuffed the light out, as if the planet were experiencing a solar eclipse. A primeval form of panic began its rapid rise within him as the shadows around them became darkness prematurely and he may have been able to hear the thudding of his own heart in his chest if not for the roar that filled the air, a sound that seemed to permeate the planet's crust, a sound he now recognised as idling warp engines, and wakening weapons. He wheeled around to face Seven again with wild eyes, "We have to go back to the village, evacuate…" He muttered, barely aware of what he was saying as he bent his tall frame to leave the cavern.

"_No_!" Seven hissed, suddenly beside him, restraining him with a vice like grip, her eyes flashing with desperation. "This cavern consists primarily of granite and may withstand the attack, but outside…" She swallowed hard to stop her voice from cracking, not wanting his panic to escalate to levels were self-preservation would be irrelevant to him.

Growling as he twisted around to glare into her face, his arm numb with the crushing power of her enhanced muscles holding him back, he snarled in disbelief, "How can you just leave them all out there? They're fish in a barrel!"

"It's too late…" Seven choked out in anguish as an unnaturally bright flash of light filled the cavern for a moment, followed almost in tandem by the unmistakable smell of smoke and burning.

That scent of death pushed Chakotay over the edge and his rage boiled over, fighting her pleading restraining arms with strength he hadn't been aware of having, in his mind every second he spent in here cowering was a second he could be using to save his father. Finally as the adrenaline fuelled energy was replaced with desperation, he turned to Seven and spat, "Let go of me! What about Dad? Don't you even care about saving _him_?"

The quick, burning slap of her human hand connecting with his cheek stunned him enough to stop fighting and stare, dazed, into her frantic, tear filled eyes sunk into her ghostly white face. "Do you think he'd want _you_ to die?" she shot back at him, dragging him further into the cave by the wrist, "I'm…save…" Her voice was overwhelmed by dread as she mentally considered that after this they may both wish to be dead, but she forced the thought away as he looked at her. "I'm saving you for him! _Please_ Chakotay!"

He staggered as the ground shook with another bomb, falling to his knees, shaking. She spoke as if their fate were already sealed, as if they could do nothing… It was then that he noticed a pair of glowering golden eyes in the darkness and heard a low growl, to his shock it was Lucky, cowering against the wall of the cavern and snarling with panic, ears pinned to the back of his head as he stared out into the forest. The dog looked as if it had somehow regressed back to being wild; his fear so extreme that not even the presence of his beloved owners calmed him. Chakotay gulped as he remembered his father telling him that animals had a sixth sense about danger, natural disasters and the like, and humans would be better to follow those instincts… Forcing himself upright with his father's voice still lingering in his memory, he shakily addressed Seven again, "What should we do, to be safer?"

Surprise and relief flashed across Seven's features, softening her face back to frightened youth after the intensity of Borg determination. "Stay here…" She mumbled, her wavering tone making it sound like a question.

"The cave goes deeper into the hillside…" Chakotay mused with little emotion, his heart withdrawing from the fear and dread. When she remained as frozen to the spot as a block of ice, he took her hand and pulled her back with him, following Lucky down a constantly narrowing path until they reached a dead end, the space so small their bodies were bent unnaturally and squeezed together, but neither objected to the closeness as weapons fire rocked the world beyond their hiding place.

* * *

><p>Eventually an eerie silence fell and the dim light of twilight pierced the pitch blackness of their hole. Chakotay watched the shadows dance tauntingly as he strained to listen for searching voices, birdsong, wind, <em>anything<em>, but nothing came to break the silence until his own voice, "It's over?" he whispered huskily, too tense to move a muscle.

"I…believe so…" Seven choked out, taking a deep breath to steady her voice before saying in a more normal tone, "I haven't heard any activity for over two hours."

Chakotay nodded in agreement and dragged himself out of the hole. "We have to go and look for everyone, see what happened!" He thought he saw Seven bite her lips, her eyes luminous in the semi-darkness, but she didn't argue as they crawled back into the main cavern, where finally able to stand up straight. Chakotay didn't waste time, bounding out of the cavern at a run, not even noticing that no water splashed him as he escaped.

Seven ran out after him, "Chakotay, I don't think you should…" She stopped mid shout as she took in her surroundings. The lush green trees she'd grown to love were gone, replaced by row upon devastated row of slender trunks burned ash grey, the branches ripped off as if they'd never been there. The sunset just beyond them was scarlet and gold against the heavy grey clouds, as if they too were being burned, the only other colour she could make out as the jaunty burgundy of Chakotay's uniform where he stood just ahead, swivelling dark eyes looking at everything but focusing on nothing. The air seemed to have had the moisture sucked from it, dragging it from her mouth and making her voice hoarse as she tried to call out to Chakotay, "Chakotay…"

There was a long pause before he mechanically turned to face her, his body leaden and his eyes dead. "Where's…where's the waterfall?" he mumbled in confusion.

Seven choked back a gasp as she realised that she was standing where the wall of water should have been falling, "It evaporated…" she replied in the same tone as he stumbled back to her, his vacant eyes staring down into the remnants of the pool, the stagnant water remaining clogged with dirt and oddly tinged with red.

"Blood…blood…" Chakotay rasped as he realised the significance. "There's blood _everywhere_!" He cried out, on the brink of hysteria, running back into the unchanged dark of the cavern and giving into to his heaving stomach before sinking to the floor. Shivering despite the almost unbearable heat, Seven had soon lay down beside him, watching as shock made his breathing shallow and his body still. She willed him to move, to make a sound, to react to anything, but it was as if he'd deactivated himself. Part of her, the human part, longed to touch him, just to make sure he was alive, that they were both alive, but she couldn't. Instead she withdrew into thinking of the Collective, of the voices that would have filled her numb brain and brought immeasurable comfort and peace, but with that thought came guilt, guilt that she was rejecting what Kolopak had taught her when difficulties came, oh, to hear his voice nearby, just one more time…

* * *

><p>Chakotay lay like that for an unknown amount of time, curled in a ball, not crying or raging, just being. He never wanted to feel anything again, it was at that moment, as dirt caressed his face and tried to coax him in an unconsciousness from which he would never wake, that he heard footsteps behind him and his heart jolted awake in hope, "Dad…"<p>

His hopeful eyes dimmed into shock as he saw Seven, her tall frame strangely shrunken and her whole body covered in a thin layer of dust, ash he realised. Only the shining tips of her gold hair and the two tear tracks running down her face to reveal chalky white skin had been spared. "No…" she replied to him in a dazed tone, hysteria building in her throat, "I…I tried to look for them…but there's _nothing_…" Her voice cracked as she fingered the ash behind her fingers, "Nothing but this…"

Chakotay stared at her, suddenly overwhelmed with irrational rage, what was she doing going out to look? What would his dad do to him if he let her die too? The thought broke some wall within him and guttural sobs shook his body. The sound made Seven's heart splinter and her legs cave in beneath her and she soon found herself weeping too as she gave into her human impulse and wrapped her arms gingerly around his shaking frame, clinging to him like a lifejacket as he sobbed like a child into her shoulder.

**A/n: I'm sorry this chapter is so under par, I've been feeling unwell this weekend so it's definitely not my best work, but please review anyway. **


	12. The First Betrayal

**A/n: "If Necessary" is a new little Voyager one-shot I found on the site. It's about Seven and Icheb in the aftermath of "Imperfection". Unfortunately, C/7 isn't mentioned, but Seven and Icheb bonding is always cute, right? I recommend it!**

Seven wasn't sure how long she and Chakotay had knelt together in the small, wrapped tightly in their own suffocating shrouds of grief and shock and clinging together for the scant comfort of another living being, but she knew she had preferred that to what was happening now. She tried not to look at Chakotay, sitting several feet away from her, his back so tightly pressed against the rock that she knew it must have been embedding painfully into his flesh. His dark eyes, once alight with an easy warmth she knew her own didn't possess, now reminded her of the dead bark on the trees outside in both colour and lifelessness. The way his hands scraped at the dirt he sat on, permanently clenched until the knuckles were white and bloodless, disturbed her deeply. This wasn't right, this lack of outward emotion, it was inhuman somehow…

A loud crack outside made her tear sodden body jump into instinctive alertness, her breath leaving her in panicky gasps. Had the Cardassians landed to claim their spoils? Hysterical adrenaline made her try to run, but exhaustion dragged her back down to the ground again. Fear is irrelevant. Fear is irrelevant, she recited mentally over and over, but a strict voice in her head reminded her that if fear was irrelevant so was grief, she shouldn't feel anything if she wanted to function… She squeezed her eyes shut at that point, forcing images of Kolopak, Dr Chovak and all the other people she knew to be dead out of her mind and running her thoughts in a callously logical rhythm. The noise had been a tree collapsing nearby, she realised. The Cardassians wouldn't be back for several days, until they were sure the destructive aftermath of their weapons had dissipated enough to make it safe, but Starfleet would come if anyone had got a message out… Starfleet! A bitter joy washed over her and she sprang to her feet, this time managing to stay upright. "Chakotay! Starfleet will come and rescue the survivors!"

His eyes swept listlessly over her, his voice husky with unshed tears. "They're a little late…" He croaked out, a single tear escaping from his parched eyes.

Her desire to speak left her as quickly as it came and she was unable to meet his eyes. "Yes…" She replied thickly, "But we must contact them anyway."

Chakotay's frown deepened as he stood up, narrowed eyes staring down at her. "I'd rather they were out killing the murderers who did this than wasting their time on us!"

"Wasting their time?" Seven echoed angrily, "You think saving the two people who know the extent of what the Cardassians have done here would be a waste of Starfleet's time?"

"That's _not_ what I meant! I intend to make sure _everyone_ knows what happened here!" He shouted, glaring at her with fire in his eyes.

Seven hid her relief at provoking some sort of reaction from him, he wasn't like her, if he didn't expel some emotion he'd lose his senses. "Good, as do I." She told him heavily, turning towards the cave's mouth. "I'm sure Starfleet are planning some sort of response, we must learn what that is."

Her brutally practical words somehow pulled back a little of the fog from Chakotay's brain and he automatically asked, "How?"

She stepped outside, the grey light of earliest dawn making her appear ghostly. "I will think of a way."

* * *

><p>They walked in silence until they reached the edge of the forest. Chakotay knew by the way Seven's pace slowed to a crawl that she dreaded reaching the village as much as he did, even though, he dimly realised, she must have seen it in her desperate search of the night below. He grabbed her arm to stop her beside him; her skin was even colder than his, as if her blood had forgotten how to circulate. "Seven…" He began in a whisper, words sticking like treacle to the roof of his mouth, "If you found anyone's…bodies…" He choked back a shuddering sob, "…you'd tell me right? No matter how bad it was?"<p>

Seven bit down on her lip until he could see crimson blood blooming against her pale skin. "I know that human culture; yours in particular, puts much importance in burial rights. I would not deny anyone that, even to spare your feelings…or my own."

Chakotay nodded, hearing grief sharpened sincerity in her voice. "I know, but if why are we going to the village if not to…say goodbye?"

"We are not going into the village." Seven replied determinedly, before sprinting off through the trees. Chakotay followed her blindly, gasping in shock when he saw her standing within what had obviously once been a small barn but now only consisted of two charred and swaying brick walls, the was rood caved in on the rumble of the other two, but it didn't obscure the obviously Borg technology Seven was fixated on inside.

"What the hell is…was this?" He exclaimed in disbelief, angry that she would seek out her precious Borg components before people.

Seven exhaled deeply as her body sagged against the small, flickering console. "This is the scanning station the Elders let me set up to monitor Cardassian activity."

Chakotay stormed in beside her, glaring at the readings. "You _knew _they were coming and you didn't warn us?"

"I _didn't_ know!" She exclaimed as if he'd punched her. "I'd been away on Earth remember? If I'd known…" Her voice cracked and he saw her Borg emotional barriers shoot up as quickly as they'd collapsed as she wiped at her tear tracks and turned back to the console, "I doubt the scans would've penetrated their shields anyway."

Chakotay felt guilt overwhelm him, blocking out his rage at the unfairness of it all for a moment, "I'm sorry Seven. I know you've done all you could have, I'm just not thinking straight…"

"Thinking at all is a challenge in this environment." Seven replied in a whisper, studying the console for a minute or two before uttering a sickened gasp.

"What?" Chakotay asked brokenly.

"There are no lifesigns within 100km of us. There are only two thousand people left on this entire planet…"

Black spots crept into the edges of Chakotay's eyes as he fought to keep from falling over. A groan of agony echoed from somewhere, it took him several long seconds to realise it came from his own throat. Dad definitely wasn't 100km away, no one I know was, they're really _gone_… "Two thousand out of a population of over fifteen thousand…" He croaked out, his voice strangled as his chest ached with every breath.

Seven didn't reply to that comment, only continuing to list facts. "There are no Cardassian vessels within three light years, but there is a Starfleet hospital ship within ten. There is automated message saying that we've to hold out as long as we can for rescue."

"Why aren't they going at warp 9.9?" Chakotay asked in frustration. "Where's the battle fleet?"

"There isn't one…" Seven mumbled, her eyes dark and distant as she stared at the console.

"Not yet maybe, but there will be." Chakotay stated confidently.

"No, you don't understand…" Seven whispered shakily, wincing when she read his questioning expression, "Here, listen to the comm. traffic between the rescue vessel and Starfleet Command."

She pressed a button and the console sprang into life, an official sounding transmission echoing through the forest. "This is the Federation Council. Under no circumstances are any Federation vessels to engage in revenge attacks against the Cardassian Empire for the attacks on the disputed border planets. Their government has informed us that it was the act of terrorists riled by the colonists' efforts to stay and we've accepted his explanation. These renegades, acting without the support of the Cardassian government, want the war to be reignited, don't play into their hands."

**A/n: Ugh, I really shouldn't try to write when I'm this tired should I? The quality definitely deteriorates. Anyway I hope you like it okay. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	13. 101 Ways to Kill a Cardassian

**A/n: Thanks to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for updating "Far From Home" last night. Here's the chapter I promised you, a day late. Sorry!**

"…These renegades, acting without the support of the Cardassian government, want the war to be reignited, don't play into their hands." The message paused, as if to give time for their cold, bureaucratic words to sink in. It was enough time for Seven's ears to register Chakotay's strangled gasp of disbelief, as if he'd been thrown in arctic waters and was fighting for every breathe of air. The sound made her stomach lurch in pity; she after all knew the agony of disregard, abandonment. Her lips even opened slightly, but she was saved from the struggle of searching for words by the message starting up again, "The rescue ships are to pick up all survivors and congregate on Quelan VIII, where the survivors will be offered all the support and counselling the Federation can give. We…"

"Turn it off." Chakotay's voice manifested as a growl from deep within his chest.

"Of course." Seven replied quickly, slamming her fist with unexpected force down on the button. The message cut out instantly, leaving the forest eerily soundless once again. The growl of his words still reverberating in her ears, Seven didn't dare look into his face, her eyes instead fixed on the shards of broken glass at her feet. Finally, cursing her weak will, she lifted her head but still couldn't look him in the eyes, "Chakotay, I…" She could go no further, her chest seemed to collapse inwards, her voice disappearing into the vacuum that this dead world now was.

Chakotay exhaled heavily, giving her leeway to follow his darkened gaze, which trailed the black smoke billowing up from the village. "Seven…" He said in a clipped tone, his face turned away from her, "Do you think that "renegades" could've done…" He indicated the devastation around them with a sweep of his arm, "…_this_?" Seven bit her lip, looking down at the ground again without answering. She choked back a gasp of surprise as he roughly seized her chin and pulled it upwards, forcing her to look at him. "_Answer_ me Seven of Nine."

She couldn't suppress a violent shudder as his eyes, coal black and empty, bored into her. For the first time in her life she was undeniably afraid of a human being. Gulping, she stated bluntly, "No." She couldn't stop a sigh of relief filling her chest as his hand dropped away from her face and he stepped back, ignoring her again. She continued anyway, "It's highly improbable, in fact virtually impossible, that any group of Cardassians could get such ships, let alone weapons, without their government's express consent, or more accurately without the consent of the Obsidian Order."

"They…they know all that too, the…the _Federation_?" he asked in a snarl, spitting in disgust as he said the name. Shaken by the cold, murderous, venom in his voice, Seven nodded wordlessly, watching as he began to pace restlessly around her. "Counselling? _Support_?" He repeated the message's mantras with dark sarcasm. "We needed _support_ when they were ravaging our worlds and what did they do?" He answered his own question, "Nothing. They're glad to get rid of the little irritant that wrinkled their perfect treaty. As long as it's just settlers who were stupid enough to leave their Earth utopia, they don't give a damn!" He stopped mid stride, suddenly tearing manically at the collar of his soiled Starfleet uniform, his fingers clawing at the two gold pips on the collar and tossing them to the ground, his boots kicking dirt over them as he ripped apart the red fabric of his jacket, "If I'm a second class citizen, then I shouldn't wear this…" He muttered under his breath as he stalked off in the direction of the burning village.

"Chakotay, wait!" Seven shouted after him despairingly, "The beacon for the rescue ship is set here, if we wander off then they won't find us..."

"They can follow me into hell!" He snapped back without turning around, his pace quickening.

Seven stumbled out from behind the console, tears bubbling over as she sank to her knees around the shredded fabric. Blindly, she groped through the dirt until the two gold pips lay glistening in her cybernetic hand. Closing her fist around them, she ran after Chakotay.

* * *

><p>He was nowhere to be seen when she entered the ruined shell of the village. She wandered aimlessly, trying to gather the strength to head for the place she knew he'd be. It was a cry, a grovelling, pleading, scream of grief and rage that finally drove her there; to her only home that was no more. She found him, collapsed against the doorway which was the only part of the house still standing, the sole evidence that there had ever been a building there at all. Since he'd shed his uniform, only a thin sleeveless vest protected his upper body from the debris around him as he shovelled at it desperately, searching for something. As if he could feel her eyes on him, he muttered over and over, "I've got to find him, I've <em>got<em> to…" Suddenly his hand hit something hard as he dug and he warily pulled it out. As he brushed away the dirt, he realised what it was, his father's praying board. Guttural sobs rocked his body, his shaking hands giving up their fruitless search and settling on the board as he'd been taught. Without fully realising it, he began to murmur the funeral prayer of this tribe. Seven, standing a few metres away heard the melodic sorrowful words with an odd sense of relief, whispering what she knew of the words along with him as he prayed for the soul of each member of the small community, for hers, and for his own.

* * *

><p>A calm descended over him after the prayers, but Seven could sense that the coolness was only physical, a coping mechanism. Every time she looked into his eyes they burned with pain. Even now, as they stood in the meadow the shuttle from the rescue ship had landed in, the hand gripping her cybernetic hand, and hiding it as well as was possible, felt cold and lifeless. They both stiffened as the shuttle door opened and a Starfleet Lieutenant began to step out. Seven felt Lucky's low growl at her side and dug her hand even deeper in his thick fur, more for her own comfort than to restrain him. Chakotay stepped in front of her as the man approached and she nervously tightened the sheet Chakotay had managed to find somewhere even tighter around her head and face. The man face fell painfully as he came closer, "Are you the only two…"<p>

"Yes." Seven said curtly, feeling that it was too dangerous to allow Chakotay to speak.

He winced in pity as he saw her. "Are you burned miss? I can give you some treatment before we go back to the ship…"

"No, I'll wait…" She hedged; shame about facial burns was really the only acceptable excuse for her headgear at the moment. "May we leave?" she asked tightly.

He smiled weakly, looking relieved. "Yes, of course. I'm afraid we can't take animals though."

Seven's eyes narrowed and she stepped away from Chakotay, giving Lucky a hand signal which sent the dog obediently into the shuttle. The man stared at her in disbelief but she just glared at him coldly and followed her pet onto the shuttle. The man turned to Chakotay for help but he just shrugged and looked after Seven with an amused twitch of his lip. "The dog goes. We're not in the mood for following orders."

* * *

><p>The shuttle ride to the main ship was uneventful after that, conducted in complete silence. Hours later Seven lay curled up on a bedroll in what at must at one time have been the ship's mess hall but was now filled past capacity with hundreds of refugees in the same position as she and Chakotay were. Weeping and arguing were constant background noises, but Seven as focused on one conversation in particular, the one Chakotay was having with a large group of men on the other side of the crowded room. Her enhanced hearing let her hear snippets, mostly snarled curses aimed at Cardassians, but even if she couldn't hear it, she knew they were planning something, she could see it in their pain scorched, vengeful eyes. Still, even though she'd been expecting it, the word "Maquis" sent a sickening chill down her spine. She'd heard of them before, there had been skirmishes with the Cardassians on the border planets for years, but she knew the attacks gave them new drive, violence, even legitimacy… No! She couldn't think like that and neither could Chakotay! Did he want to commit suicide by Cardassian gun? How could he be so stupid? His death would solve nothing! Even as these thoughts ran through her head, she knew her probability of stopping him was low, humans could be worse than Klingons when they developed a deep seated hatred, a need for retribution… She sighed brokenly, only exhaustion keeping her from crying. If he had to, if this was his only course of action, she'd need to keep him alive. She owed him that, she owed Kolopak that…<p>

The sound of Chakotay sinking down onto his bedroll beside her, his eyes staring up at the ceiling, made her decision. "What's happening?" she whispered almost inaudibly, knowing she was close enough to his ear for him to hear her.

His eyes didn't move from the ceiling as he replied stiffly, "We're three days away from Quelan VIII." Her icy glare in response made him sigh. "You'll be going to stay in New York with Sekaya."

"And you?" Seven hissed, "You will join the Maquis?" Her flat tone made it sound more like a statement than a question.

"Probably." He conceded gruffly, sighing heavily. "Sekaya will need you after this Seven…"

Seven breathed an irritable growl. "She isn't trying to get herself killed, you are. You require my help to survive this…" She grimaced, "…crusade."

"You don't understand!" He snapped, getting looks from their neighbours that made them both fall silent for several minutes.

Seven was the one who broke the silence. "I know of 101 ways to kill a Cardassian." She stated seriously, twisting her head around to stare at him, "Do you?"

Chakotay flinched at that, his eyes flickering to meet hers for the first time in hours, and she knew she'd gotten through to him. "Don't you _dare_ talk like that! Dad would turn in his…" He stopped abruptly, as if realising the pain of the common phrase seconds too late. He turned too, so that they lay almost nose to nose, and sighed heavily. "We'll discuss this later." He muttered unhappily under his breath.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	14. Cloaks and Verbal Daggers

**A/n: Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter of my new C/7 story, "A Different Path". I hope you enjoy this too! :D**

Seven could hear her own breath ricocheting in her ears as she ran blindly forward, the mass of burning trees that soared above her blurring as she picked up speed, the feeling of being pursued intensifying with every step she took. Suddenly she was on the ground, black, acrid smoke swirling above her. She tried to scramble upright but a huge hand, its veins bulging underneath the dry, gnarled grey skin, seized her by the throat and pinned her to the wet grass, which she suddenly realised was scarlet with blood. Gasping, she prised desperately at the vice like fingers, struggling with all her strength. "No…" She began to rasp out as she felt the ground give a violent judder beneath her.

The smoke evaporated abruptly to unveil the expressionless face of her captor, his Cardassian features mutilated by implants, the assimilation tubes extended from his left hand and pressing into her jugular. "Resistance is futile." He purred in her ear as she began to scream uncontrollably…

"_No_!" The scream had left Seven's lips before her eyes opened to see the entirely benign ceiling of a Federation vessel, her thrashing body rolling off the thin mattress and on to the cold floor, but only the fearful concern in Chakotay's voice brought her back to reality.

"Seven? Seven, are you alright? What happened?" His hand cautiously brushed her shaking shoulder as he peered down at her with tortured, tear swollen eyes.

Her racing heart began to slow as the comfort of his presence started to sink in, her gaze sheepish and her lips pursed as she admitted, "A…A nightmare…"

"I didn't think you could…" Chakotay stopped himself as he realised the stupidity in such a comment, what had he just witnessed from her could be nothing else but a nightmare.

Seven impatiently brushed her sweat dampened hair out of her eyes as he fell into an awkward silence. Deciding to relieve him of fearing offence when there was none, she said, "Have we arrived on Quelan VIII?"

Chakotay let her go and stood to his full height, running a stressed hand through his hair as he looked out of the window onto the crowded, chaotic scenes of the city outside. "Yeah, a few minutes ago while you were sleeping.

Seven nodded and moved onto her knees, pulling her thick hooded cloak around herself as she looked around; thankfully no one was taking any notice of her in their rush to leave this singular Samaritan vessel. It was only know that she noticed the bag in Chakotay's hand and the hastily scribbled note resting on a stack of refugee travel tokens by her bedside. Nausea knotted her stomach as she made the connection, staring up at Chakotay, "You were going to _abandon_ me here." She stated in a robotic, matter-of-fact tone more damning than anger.

Chakotay flinched in resonating guilt at the word _abandon_ but tried to desperately to explain, "No Seven, I've given you everything they provided as with to go somewhere, instructions on how to get to Sekaya's…" He trailed off as her pale blue eyes continued to stare mercilessly up at him, swallowing a choking lump in his throat. "You _can't _come with me Seven, it isn't safe for you." He said with a firm voice and dead eyes.

Seven's fists clenched tightly, her first outward sign of anger, as she stood up to face him. "We have had this conversation _already_ Chakotay, you require my assistance." She said through gritted teeth.

Chakotay shook his head, "This isn't some school homework Seven, this is…" His voice took on a hushed harshness. "…_war_. You can't be involved in that, you're only nineteen for Sprit's sake and have already had enough of your life taken from you…"

"_You're_ only twenty one; there is little discernable difference in maturity!" Seven retorted hotly before calming a little as she found a more logical argument, "How is hiding away on Earth, where I'd have to disguise both my identity and my distaste for the Federation, any more of a life than fighting the Cardassians and curtailing _your_ reckless actions?"

Chakotay stiffened and stepped back from her, badly stung by her words. "What would happen if the Cardassians captured you? Do you have any idea what they could do with you?" He snapped, pulling out his most desperate argument.

Seven paled, a muscle in her jaw jumping violently as her suddenly glassy, shimmering eyes began to blink rapidly. "You…You believe I would betray you?" she asked in a broken whisper.

"No!" He said vehemently, "But they could torture you, experiment on your implants…"

Seven's eyes took on a defiant glint, her body stiff and frozen. "If they captured me I would deactivate myself." She stated with such unflinching certainty that Chakotay's stomach clenched in horror, no, he'd never let her be in a position to have to do that! Without giving her a chance to react, he turned on his heel and ran from her, melting away into the crowd.

* * *

><p>By the time he'd paused for breath, Chakotay had somehow found his way to the rendezvous point he'd arranged with his Maquis contact the night before. He looked around frantically for any sign of Seven, a conflicting mixture of relief and regret filling him when he saw no sign of her.<p>

"You look like you've seen a ghost Chakotay, are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Chakotay's head snapped around to see Haytar, his Maquis contact, and a distant relative through the convoluted connections of his people, looking at him sceptically. "Of course I am." He replied, his voice terse with determination. When Haytar's expression didn't soften, he snapped, "Are we leaving now?"

"Hold your horses." Haytar sneered patronisingly. "We need to convene with the unit commanders to see if you and the other recruits are trustworthy." Two young human males appeared at his side, both pale faced with grief but with their eyes filled with the same vengeful determination that Chakotay knew filled his own.

Chakotay almost snorted, he should have known Haytar was near the bottom of the chain of command, he was both self important and dim. "Let's get going then, before we draw attention." He stated coolly.

Haytar glared at him silently but began to lead them out of the ship and through the dense catacombs that made up Quelan VIII's crowded streets. One of other men, Hispanic in appearance and around his age, fell into step with him behind Haytar's back. "Nathaniel Harrow." He introduced himself quietly, with a cautious glance at Haytar.

Chakotay smiled, seeing he wasn't the only one who doubted their recruiter. "Chakotay."

The other man, tall and dark skinned with short curly hair, muttered, "I'm Jake Ayala. I think we'll be okay as long as he's not in our unit." He pointed at Haytar's back.

They all chuckled in agreement but any mirth left them as they stepped into a darkened bar and a new figure approached them, "I see you pulled some more misguided souls from that rescue ship Haytar." The voice, an older man's oddly familiar to Chakotay, remarked.

"Kenharan?" Chakotay gasped as recognition hit him.

The lights flickered on to reveal a Native American man in his thirties. "Chakotay!" He exclaimed in disbelief. "What are you doing here…" He stopped as pain crossed Chakotay's face. "Not Kolopak?" he asked in anguish, hugging Chakotay hard when he nodded. "I'm so sorry cousin, I had hoped…" He trailed off and looked back at his companions behind him, "I vouch for this man! We are lucky to have any blood of Kolopak of Dorvan VI fighting with us."

"And the others?" A new man, older still, stepped forward. "They wish to fight too?"

"Yes, we'd be honoured to join the Maquis." Ayala and Harrow replied as one.

"As would I." A new speaker interrupted, the familiar ringing clarity in her voice making Chakotay's heart sink as a she appeared, cloaked and hooded before Kenharan.

"Seven!" Chakotay hissed, "What are you doing? Go back!"

"No." She replied calmly from under her hood. "I have made my choice Chakotay."

"Good." Kenharan said with soft curiosity, "Would you mind dropping your hood? I need to see how I'm speaking to, no matter who they know." He shot Chakotay a questioning look.

"A reasonable request." Seven replied, flipping her hood back. "I was Borg." She stated coolly when they stared at her in silence.

Kenharan gazed at her in amazed shock, "I heard Kolopak had taken in a lost soul but…"

"You can't possibly be _considering_ allowing a Borg to…" Haytar began to splutter.

"Anyone who can outwit our security, not to mention you Haytar, is worth listening to." Kenharan said calmly, guiding the four new recruits into a back room. "Come, we have a lot to discuss."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm sorry it's rushed at the end, I'm going out tonight.**


	15. The Valjean

**A/n: Thanks to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for updating "Far from Home" (PLEASE write more soon Jedi!) and to Valkara for all the encouragement.**

"Right…" Kenharan began seriously as he watched his four new raw recruits follow him into the side room. "I hope you understand we're not playing games here, your only initiation into the Maquis will be working as hard as the rest of us, no training rounds, so if you want to back out leave now."

Chakotay glared at Seven through the room's half lit gloom, silently willing her to come back to those sharp, pragmatic, Borg senses of hers and leave the room, and any involvement with the Maquis, behind her. His efforts proved to be pointless, Seven ignored him so meticulously, her attention fixed unflinchingly on Kenharan, that he was sure she was aware of his disapproval and was avoiding it with her strong shield of indifference. He was so wrapped up in his frustration that it took him several seconds to realise that Kenharan expected some sort of answer and that Harrow and Ayala were looking at him to lead, even Seven quirked a questioning eyebrow at him momentarily. "We understand." He finally said with a stiff clarity, his fists unclenching as Kenharan nodded to them approvingly.

"Good." Kenharan said as he walked behind a large table, spreading his arms out wide to draw their eyes to the clutter that littered it. "I'm just going to be straight with you here, we're all adults…" He paused at that, casting a mildly suspicious glance at Seven; with the implants scarring her unreadable face and the long cloak hiding her figure he couldn't make a guess at her true age, but then continued on with a small shrug, "The last scouting mission went horribly wrong. Now we're short handed for our most vital mission in months, if I see that you're up to it, you'll be joining my strike team, is that understood?"

Ayala's back straightened proudly, "Yes sir." Chakotay couldn't help but crack a tiny smile, another Academy graduate, or dropout.

"What happened?" Harrow asked curiously, his dark brows furrowing with a concern that emphasised his youth.

"We were scouting, reading the lay of the land in preparation shall we say, but our attempt to…" Kenharan cleared his throat, "…reclaim a colony vessel didn't go as anticipated."

Chakotay frowned in comprehension. "You needed that vessel as part of your bigger plan…" He murmured thoughtfully, as a statement rather than a question.

Kenharan smiled at him ruefully. "You read people well Chakotay, a useful skill." He sighed heavily. "Yes we needed it, and we have it, but…"

"But the Cardassians have locked the control systems, as they do with all captured vessels." Seven finished quietly, making all four men jump since it was the first sound she'd made since they'd entered the room, but Kenharan recovered quickly, giving Seven what Chakotay construed as a satisfied smile, and suddenly Chakotay knew why he'd let Seven join them so easily, he needed her.

"That's right young lady." Kenheran replied smoothly, "Seven, isn't it?"

Seven nodded, biting the inside of her mouth to restrain her suddenly resurgent nerves. "I am Seven of Nine, Seven is acceptable."

"If you know what this is, do you know how to disable it?" Kenheran asked urgently.

"Yes." Seven answered simply, "I can operate all of the technology that has ever been assimilated by the Borg." Chakotay knew that Seven didn't think she was boasting, just stating a fact, but even while in his cloud of anger with her he nearly laughed out loud at the overawed expressions on Ayala and Harrow's faces, perhaps he had forgotten over the years how extraordinary some of Seven's abilities, and deficiencies, could seem to the outside world.

Kenharan saw that she was perfectly serious and jumped into action, "Chakotay, Ayala, Harrow, go out and tell Haytar that's he to take all of you to see the ship." He ordered in a tone which revealed he was accustomed to obedience."

Harrow and Ayala left the room quite happily but Chakotay couldn't stop himself from pulling Kenharan aside, where he thought they'd be out of Seven's earshot, and hissing, "_Please_ don't encourage Seven!"

Kenharan's eyebrows shot up at the younger man's intense expression, "You don't think she's trustworthy?" he asked in surprise.

Chakotay flushed angrily, "Of course she's trustworthy!" he growled, "I just don't want her to be captured or _killed_!"

Kenharan looked at Chakotay's emphatic face sympathetically, "I realise that you're protective of her Chakotay, but she made it pretty clear that she is here of her own free will and I won't turn away someone who could be such a useful addition without a very good reason."

"But…" Chakotay started to retort, but Kenharan stopped him with a sigh.

"Look, if you're that uncomfortable working with her then I can split the two of you into separate teams…"

"No." Chakotay refused, without letting him finish, "If she's going to insist on doing this then she stays with me."

Relief flashed over Kenharan's face, to be truthful he wasn't sure how to deal with the drone without Chakotay's involvement; he also firmly believed that new members needed someone to keep them reigned in, to prevent them from being reckless in the face of grief and the lust for revenge, and he could see that Seven could be that emotional anchor for Seven and vice versa. "I was hoping you'd say that." He told him honestly with a supportive squeeze on his shoulder, "Now go with Haytar."

Chakotay left reluctantly, deeply dissatisfied. He knew he'd been manipulated into accepting Seven's involvement and it angered him that he could see no way out of it.

Seven meanwhile had stood back listening to this conversation; Chakotay had underestimated or forgotten the extent of her enhanced hearing, with conflicted emotions. Part of her guilty that her presence was putting Chakotay through such turmoil, but mostly she was deeply relieved about Chakotay's refusal to leave her, his care for her welfare gave her an odd warm feeling, being left unsupported with these unpredictable rebels had been her greatest fear about following him into the Maquis. She flinched in surprise as Kenharan's voice interrupted her thoughts, "So why _do_ you want to join the Maquis?" he asked coolly.

She turned to face him directly, her face cold and impassive but her voice sharp, "Why should my motives be any more questionable than anyone else's?"

"The Borg are rather indiscriminate with their violence, our only target is the Cardassians." Kenharan pointed out.

Seven took a deep breath. "What you say about the Borg is true, but the Kotay family freed me from them. I shared their home, they are my Collective." She gulped hard, thinking involuntarily of Kolopak. "The Cardassians decimated that home and killed Kolopak, the only and the best father figure I am ever likely to have. That gives me enough reason to retaliate against them, don't you think?"

"But you wouldn't, not if Chakotay wasn't." Kolopak told her.

Seven bit her lip, the man was perceptive. "Correct." She admitted. "But he is retaliating and since I know that my assistance will reduce his odds of dying then I will do all I can." She shot Kenharan an expression frozen with resolve and determination, "I will _not_ allow any more members of my Collective to die at the hands of the Cardassians." She stated unequivocally.

Kenharan smiled at her then, "Then all of the Maquis better make sure they become members of your Collective, shouldn't they?"

* * *

><p>"This is your ship?" Seven stated in an underwhelmed tone when she saw the large ship looming in the hanger.<p>

"Yes, she's only ten years old, with good engines, enhanced weapons and room for a decent crew." Kenharan said proudly.

"It's a little small for a large attack isn't it? You couldn't get more than 30 people on this at a squeeze." Chakotay said sceptically.

"We need stealth more than anything Chakotay. This is as big as we can go." Kenharan replied before turning to Seven as they all walked, with Ayala, Harrow, Haytar, and Lucky between Chakotay and Seven, into the vessel. "What can you do?" Kenharan asked Seven as he gazed bleakly down at the dead console, locked against them.

"Enough." Seven answered shortly as she rolled up the sleeve of her cloak to reveal her cybernetic arm, extending the assimilation tubes with a soft click. All but Chakotay watched in horrified fascination as she plunged them into the main console, her eyes fluttering closed in concentration. A light gasp left her lips as her eyes shot open a minute or so later, her hand swiftly removed and tucked behind her back before she addressed Kenharan. "This ship is now clear of Cardassian protocols, it is a Maquis vessel." She stated as the ship spluttered into life.

Kenharan beamed as the ship asked for new security codes. "Well done!" he exclaimed, "We haven't given it a name, do you want the honours Seven?"

Seven gave an indifferent shrug. "I have no experience of naming vessels."

"How about the Valjean?" Harrow suggested.

Seven looked at him curiously, eyebrows raised. "As in "Les Miserables"?"

Harrow blushed under her piercing gaze, "I read a lot."

Chakotay grinned, "I think it would work."

"The Valjean it is then!" Kenharan agreed with a laugh.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	16. Attack Plans and Attractions

**A/n: Thanks to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for updating "Far from Home". I hope you like this chapter and that you update again SOON! :D**

"What do you think they want us for this time?" Nathaniel Harrow asked in a cautious whisper, leaning across the dusty table to look between the equally impatient faces of his fellow recent Maquis recruits.

Jake Ayala rapped his knuckles on the side of the table thoughtfully. "Maybe they're finally getting ready to launch that "big offensive" they hinted at when we first got here…" He mused quietly before glancing at Chakotay, remembering his connection to the upper echelons of the hierarchy through Kenharan. "Did Kenharan or the others say _why_ they wanted us in on this meeting Chakotay?"

Chakotay sighed, inwardly frustrated but determined not to get his hopes up or theirs. "Like I said already, I don't know any more than any of you, okay?" He drained the rest of his glass and set it on the table. "Let's just wait and see what happens."

"You sound like my village vedek! "Wait for the Prophets will" he would've said." Tal Ceres replied with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Chakotay smiled gratefully at the young Bajoran girl, glad to have the mood lightened slightly even at his expense. Ceres blushed a little under his gaze and Chakotay belatedly remembered Seven's blunt warning that "the Bajoran escapee is attracted to you". When he asked her how she could possibly know that, he'd never known Seven to notice such things before, she'd replied exasperatedly, "She keeps interrogating me about your likes and dislikes!" Chakotay had laughed heartily in reply to that and advised her to tell Ceres that "if she wants to know anything about me, tell her to ask me herself." He smiled distractedly at the thought of that particular exchange, Seven was certainly having difficulty "adapting" to having a roommate, Kenharan hadn't liked the idea of her sharing with Chakotay and the other young men, so she'd been forced to share a room with Ceres, the only other female recruit of her age on Quelan VIII.

Reluctantly he turned his mind back to the issue at hand and looked questioning over at the former Borg drone herself, "Have you finished fixing up the Valjean yet Seven?"

"I have restored it to working condition yes, but I wouldn't say it is as efficient a vessel as it could be." She replied in a dissatisfied tone, "They would not allow me to adapt Borg technology to its systems." She continued, now sounding positively vexed.

"They just don't understand the technology fully yet that's all." Chakotay explained soothingly, sensing her agitation. "The Valjean is important to their plans; they can't let anything go wrong."

"If it was so important we'd be off this godforsaken rock and flying it to kick some Cardassian ass!" Ayala muttered irritably.

No one could disagree with the sentiment, but it cast a dark cloud over the table. Nathaniel tried to relieve by addressing Seven with nervous curiosity, "They let you build your…sleeping chamber thing though, right?"

Seven's eyebrows lifted slightly at his inaccurate terminology, "Do you mean my regeneration alcove?"

"Yeah…" Nathaniel answered, though really he wasn't much the wiser.

Seven sighed, "Yes, they let me construct and use one, which I am grateful for, but I still think it would be better for the Valjean to be fitted…"

She was interrupted by those around her springing to their feet. "Kenharan, sir." Chakotay greeted the newcomer respectfully.

Kenharan laughed as he waved him back to his seat, "At ease Chakotay, you're not in the Academy any more!" He gestured to the three men standing behind him, two humans and a Bolian. "You all know Haytar…" He began quickly before moving on to the Bolian, "This is Chell." Chell stepped forward to shake their hands enthusiastically before Kenharan indicated the final stranger, a striking man of around twenty five, tanned and dark haired with striking pale green eyes. "And this is Logan Pullman; he's just arrived from Yolani II."

Ayala gasped, "Where that Cardassian power distribution system was just blown up?"

Kenharan smiled wryly and exchanged a knowing look with Pullman. "Precisely Ayala. Now that we've all been introduced, let's go somewhere a little quieter and discuss things, shall we?"

"Of course." Chakotay agreed after a quick glance at the others for approval and then followed Kenharan into the large storage room by the café's kitchen that had become their default meeting room.

Seven quickly fell into place behind them all as Chakotay was occupied talking to Kenharan. She almost jumped in surprise when Pullman's arm brushed against hers and glanced at him questioningly, people normally stayed as far away from her as civility and comradeship would allow, but he smiled at her, his teeth gleaming white. "So, I hear you're the one who fixed up that piece of junk they call the Valjean?"

"I am." Seven confirmed bluntly, arching an eyebrow as she added, "And the Valjean is no longer a "piece of junk."

Pullman chuckled at her comeback, "I saw that, and I've you to thank for that it seems Miss Seven." He replied contritely, taking her human hand decisively and pressing it momentarily to his lips, "Since I'm to be its pilot, my life may depend on your work."

Seven felt her cheeks heat up inexplicably and found her hand to be quivering as he dropped it. "I'm sure you will find it to be a reliable vessel…" She mumbled quickly before leaving his side and hurriedly walking to Chakotay's shoulder, following him into the meeting room.

* * *

><p>"Now…" Kenharan began as he set down a pile of PADDs on the wide table. "I'm sure you'll all be glad to hear that you have all been assigned to this mission…"<p>

Chakotay spoke over the whoops of "Yes!" and "Finally!" from the others, looking at Kenharan seriously, "And which mission would that be exactly?" he asked carefully.

"We are going to fly the Valjean behind enemy lines. Our target is the Cardassian military weapons depot on Cardassia Nine; we need to knock it out of commission for at least six months if we want to have any chance of achieving our goals." Kenharan explained.

"Cardassia Nine!" Chakotay echoed, "That's the biggest Cardassian weapons cache in this sector! There's no way…"

Pullman snorted nonchalantly, "If you want to get the prize you have to aim high." He commented drily.

Chakotay glared at him, "I'm only asking how you plan to get a stolen ship past their checkpoints." He responded coolly.

"That's where Chell here comes in!" Kenharan announced, patting the Bolian's broad back to urge him on.

Chell cleared his throat nervously, "My family has links to the Bolian trade market and I heard through my connections that the Cardassian soldiers often smuggle…prohibited goods to their barracks via Bolian vessels…"

Harrow cottoned on, "So if you're our front man so to speak, the one they see on the viewscreen, they'll let us through."

"Right." Kenharan confirmed, "We've spent months creating a cover and now that the Valjean's ready, we're setting the plan in motion."

"What are to be our duties?" Seven asked quietly, the first time she'd spoken since they'd entered the room.

"I will be the leader of this mission, with Haytar directly under me in the chain of command while Logan here…" He indicated a smiling Pullman, "…will be the pilot. Chakotay will be next, the rest of you are to follow his orders. We will sort out your individual roles before we leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Chakotay whispered, still stunned by how fast things were moving and his relatively senior role in the events to come.

Kenharan scanned all their faces intently, "Yes, you'd better get a good night's sleep tonight, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"Are you okay about all this?" Chakotay asked Seven later that night as they stood outside of their rooms.<p>

Seven smiled weakly to reassure him, "I have been preparing myself for this eventuality." She frowned when she read his strained expression, "What about you?"

Chakotay ran a stressed hand through his thick hair, "Yeah, I'm okay. I guess I was just starting to think the day would never come…"

"Chakotay, come see this!" Jake Ayala called and Chakotay stopped.

"I'll be right back." He assured her quickly before disappearing into his shared room.

Seven nodded and had hardly been waiting more than a few seconds before her own name was called, "Seven!"

She blanched in surprise when she realised it was Pullman. "Good evening Mr Pullman." She greeted him mechanically, oddly nervous.

He smilingly shook his head as he reached her. "Mr Pullman is my dad, I'm Logan, please."

Seven swallowed, this was highly irregular! "If you wish…Logan. What is it you wish to discuss with me?"

"I…" He started awkwardly, all his suave temporarily abandoning him as he studied her face. "You know that my sister was assimilated? She was at Wolf 359 and…"

Seven bolted back from him with a shudder, eyes on the floor. "I apologise, but I…"

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, "I wasn't accusing you, Kenharan told me your story. I was just going to tell you that seeing you freed like this gives me hope for Bonnie." He said softly.

Seven met his unnervingly green eyes again, "I'm glad my presence comforts rather than distresses you." She replied sincerely.

"Good." Logan beamed at her disarmingly, "I'll see you tomorrow then." He said quickly before turning on his heel and walking out of sight.

"Oh Prophets!" Ceres suddenly squealed from behind Seven, having observed the entire conversation. "That hot new pilot likes you Seven!"

"Yes, I am glad he does not seem to hold a grudge." Seven admitted.

Ceres looked at her in bemusement. "You don't get what I mean do you? He _likes_ you Seven." When Seven just looked at her blankly in reply, she sighed in exasperation, "Are you dense or something?" She had the grace to look guilty when Seven's eyes narrowed, "Okay, so I know you're a genius, but you're not very worldly-wise are you?"

"No, I suppose not…" Seven said slowly, still not really catching onto what the Bajoran meant.

Ceres now patted Seven's arm kindly, "Oh honey, we're going to have to have a girl talk later so I can catch you up on things!" She paused as she saw Chakotay reappear, "Later." She muttered before disappearing back into their room.

Chakotay looked down at Seven in worried concern, having heard of Pullman's visit from Nathaniel. "That Pullman guy wasn't obnoxious to you was he?" he asked urgently, protectiveness flaring in his dark eyes, "You don't have to put up with insults…"

"No, he wasn't obnoxious at all." Seven replied, "In fact, apparently he was quite the opposite."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D (And don't worry, this will be full-blown C/7…eventually)**


	17. Cardassia Nine

**A/n; Huge thanks to both xXBrightsidebumblebeeXx for updating "The Borg With Butterfly Wings" and Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for updating "Far From Home". I know this is your favourite story Jedi, I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get my inspiration back.**

"We are now with one million kilometres of Cardassia Nine." Seven announced clearly through the cramped Bridge of the Valjean from her position as the improvised Tactical console.

The buzz of anxious conversation that had filled the Bridge up till then immediately died on her co-conspirators' lips as they fixed wide, questioning eyes on her face. The well practiced impassivity they read in her expression irritated most of them, but their commander, Kenharan, perhaps unwisely, drew strength from her stoicism and asked calmly, "Has their defensive situation changed since our last surveillance mission?"

Seven shook her head lightly, her brow creased in thought as she answered, her gaze still focused on the readings in front of her. "Not markedly." She replied, "The sensor net around the planet is still fully operational."

Kenharan's face fell momentarily, but he quickly covered it up as his young recruits looked to him for guidance. "They repaired any damage done by our strikes then." He concluded quietly, "It seems we're going to have to take all the credit for this then people." He remarked wryly with a small smile.

Chakotay saw through his calm veneer and consciously tightened his grip around the barrel of the phaser at his hip, causing an ever observant Seven to glance at him pointedly, her blue eyes narrowing in worry. Quickly he removed the offending hand from the phaser, giving her a flicker of a reassuring smile as he stepped down into the centre of the Bridge and patted Chell's wide back, who was sitting as co-pilot beside Logan Pullman. "I guess we're going to have to rely on your acting skills after all Chell."

Kenharan nodded in agreement. "Chakotay's right, it's time to get some practice in Chell, we'll be rendezvousing with the so-called "buyers" in…"

"Twelve minutes if we continue at our present velocity." Seven filled in helpfully.

"Yes, twelve minutes…" Kenharan muttered tersely before turning to Haytar, his second in command, who was sitting in his chair, coiled up like a new spring. Unlike the nervous expressions of his crewmates, Haytar's eyes gleamed disturbingly in anticipation of the attack. Chakotay's stomach couldn't help but give a twist of unease whenever he looked at the man, a desire for revenge was expected in this situation but if that fervour turned into a _need_, a bloodlust, he could put all of their lives in danger. "Coach Chell up a little more Haytar." Kenharan ordered.

Chell winced at the thought and Haytar breathed a sneering laugh. "If you can't face me Bolian, how are you supposed to convince the Cardassians you're a hard-nosed smuggler?"

Chell's shoulder's stiffened defiantly. "Just listen!" he retorted before turning in his chair to face them all and launching into his sales pitch. "I have…45 crates of…Romulan fortified rum, 20 barrels of Orion nectar wine… and 100 boxes of Bolian…hilar pills. Are you interested? I'll need to…get…into orbit around the planet for it to be worth my while. Hilar pills are too…volatile for transporters…" Chell stuttered nervously.

"You think Cardassians are going to deal with a man who can't string two sentences together?" Haytar spat out in disbelief.

"He'll be fine." Chakotay replied stonily, glaring at the older man as Chell grimaced with shame and fear.

Tal Ceres leaned over her console, beaming widely at Chell, whose pale blue cheeks blushed navy under the light of her supportive grin. "Don't worry Chell, you'll do great!"

Logan Pullman chuckled softly, "It'll probably not matter how wooden your acting is Chell, everyone knows a Cardassian would cut his own arm off for a box of those hilar pills!"

Behind him, Nathaniel Harrow's brows furrowed in curiosity. "What exactly are these mysterious 'hilar' pills?"

Pullman ungraciously began to laugh harder at that as Chell began to splutter an explanation, his cheeks once again flushing indigo in embarrassment. "Umm…Well…They're…"

"Hilar pills are a sexual stimulant, banned on most worlds outside Bolis for their explosive qualities but also in very high demand throughout the quadrant." Seven stated coolly without lifting her head up from her console, obviously unfazed or unknowing about the risqué connotations of this comment.

Even the ever mature Chakotay's mouth dropped open slightly, "I didn't know they were 'explosive'!"

"That's enough…" Kenharan started to intervene sharply, only to be interrupted by the ear-splitting sound of a warning klaxon.

"The ship has now penetrated Cardassia Nine's sensor net!" Seven informed them over the noise of the warning, which had been programmed, perhaps over-zealously, to go off when this happened, as if they wouldn't realise.

"We're being hailed by a Galor class ship!" Pullman shouted, quickly moving out of the way and shoving Chell to the front and centre of the viewscreen. "You're on!"

Chell cleared his throat nervously as his crewmates all backed out of sight of the viewscreen. "Open a channel." He finally ordered.

The coal black, deep set eyes of a Cardassian Gul stared back at them angrily within a second of the line opening, the wrinkles on his gnarled grey forehead folding disapprovingly downwards as he saw Chell. "This is a secure Cardassian military installation!" he snarled, flecks of spit leaving his dry, ash coloured lips as he spoke with a self-important vehemence. "What are you doing here Bolian?"

Much to his comrades' relief, the sight of an actual Cardassian seems to bring out Chell's hatred of them and so his confidence, his broad chest puffing out. "I'm here to make my _pre-arranged _transaction with my sales contact, or has your girlfriend told you that you don't need my hilar pills anymore?" he said with surprisingly sleek sharpness.

The Gul's demeanour changed instantly. "Hil…Hilar pills?" he echoed in a whisper as he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I…I can see no reason for you not to proceed. I will transmit safe coordinates for you to enter orbit."

"Much obliged." Chell replied coolly, clicking off the comm. line.

"Wow! That deserves a best actor Oscar! He totally fell for it!" Ayala exclaimed in incredulous disbelief.

Pullman grinned. "Like I said before, the spoon-heads will do anything for a little…"

Chakotay interrupted him in a terse whisper as he looked up from his console. "They haven't sent us any coordinates, there's something wrong…"

"We're being scanned!" Seven cried out suddenly, immediately moving her hands across the console at lightning speed to block them out, only to find that she was too late. "I can't stop them, they're…"

"Try all you can!" Kenharan ordered, "We have to…" He was unceremoniously cut off by the explosion of direct torpedo strike off their hull and at that moment the whole ship was plunged into a blinding darkness.

**A/n: I'm sorry it's so short, I'll try to update again tomorrow. All this studying I have to do has really messed up my updating routine, please lighten the drudgery for me and review! :D**


	18. Commander Under Pressure

For those first few stunned seconds of the attack Chakotay was blinded by the sudden darkness and paralysed by instinctive fear but, as he began to hear a nearby hiss of a broken power relay, taste the smoke scorching his throat and feel the shields around the Valjean's Bridge quivering with every blow, his sense of perspective returned to him and with it his natural courage. "Everyone okay?" he shouted hoarsely.

Groans of "Yes" in reply and Seven's remarkably controlled, "I am undamaged Chakotay" reassured him, but he couldn't pick out Kenharan's or Haytar's voice amongst them.

His questions were answered when the emergency lighting reluctantly came on, flickering unreliably but providing enough light so that he could clearly make out Kenharan's body sprawled limply over the floor. His steps rolling with the ship as it struggled under fire, he plunged forward towards the most heavily damaged section of the Bridge, crouching down by Kenharan's body and feeling for a pulse which was, thankfully, still present. "He's alive…" He gasped out to no one in particular as he grabbed the well built man under the armpits and began to drag him across the floor out of the direct firing zone. He smiled in breathless gratitude as Ayala joined him, lifting up their unconscious leader's legs so they could carry him in tandem. A curse escaped his lips as the ship was rocked by a plasma torpedo, the biggest weapon the Cardassians had deployed yet, and he saw Pullman sitting at comm. with a dazed look on his face, doing nothing to avoid them. "Didn't they teach you evasive manoeuvres at the Academy Pullman?" He yelled over to the pilot sharply as he and Ayala finally reached a relatively safe place to set Kenharan down.

"I'll get right on that!" Pullman replied, a sheepish note to his voice as the ship swerved away from the Cardassian one under the skilled command of his fingers. "I can maybe keep them off our tails for five minutes, tops!"

Chakotay nodded in acknowledgement of the pilot's bleak assessment of the situation, scanning the Bridge for a solution and settling his eyes on Seven. "Damage report!" he ordered sharply.

" Several injuries are being reported throughout the shields are at 55% and falling, the warp engines are offline…" Seven began to explain. Her expression was grim as she focused on her scans.

"What about weapons?" Chakotay asked urgently, "We need to either fire back or retreat if we're going to survive this!" he pressed as she paused, desperation seeping into his tone.

"Phasers are non-operational." Seven answered bluntly, clutching her console to stay upright as the floor shook beneath her. "The only weapons at our disposal are the ten kiloton torpedoes we were going to use on the depot."

Chakotay's teeth clenched in thought as he turned to Chell and Harrow, "You two get down to Engineering and do all you can to get the warp engines going again, I think we're going to need them."

"Yes sir!" Both men replied instantly, immediately disappearing into the turbolift.

Chakotay sighed, but he didn't have time to catch his breath before another shot hit off the bow. "We can't take much more of this Chakotay, evasive manoeuvres or not!" Pullman reported tersely from the comm.

Chakotay glanced at Seven, "I think our only option would be to fire those torpedoes at the Cardassian ship and then retreat, leave the dept for another day."

Seven nodded quickly in agreement, "That proposal is feasible, considering the options…"

"Retreat is _not _an option, drone!" Chakotay jumped in shock at Haytar's sudden outburst, the older man had sat in his chair like a frozen statute while Chakotay had taken control, blood trickling from a wound to his head. Chakotay had assumed that, like Kenharan, he was incapacitated. Now however, the second in command had staggered up from his chair, his eyes gleaming fanatically as he focused on the huge Cardassian vessel shown on the viewscreen. "Logan, find a way past those thugs and get us to in orbit, we're destroying that weapons depot!" He spat the order to Pullman.

"If we fly directly towards the planet now with that ship on our tail, not to mention that we've lost the element of surprise, we're dead!" Chakotay argued, staring at Haytar in angered disbelief.

"You would retreat back to base with a damaged ship and nothing to show for it?" Haytar retorted snidely while glaring at Logan Pullman's back, "I gave you an order!"

"I believe I may have a solution." Seven broke in, ignoring Haytar's snort and looking to Chakotay instead, who nodded his permission to continue. "Cardassia Nine's moon has a polarising atmosphere that would increase the power of a torpedo if it was fired within that atmosphere. If we go into the moon's orbit and lead the Cardassian vessel there, we could destroy it with a single torpedo, leaving enough to continue our assault on the weapons depot."

"That doesn't solve the problem of how we would avoid being destroyed by the depot's defences, they know about us now." Chakotay pointed out.

Seven allowed herself a slight sigh. "I thought of that. The polarising atmosphere also blocks out the Cardassian sensors, if we moved quickly enough from behind it, they wouldn't be able to react in time."

Pullman snapped his fingers. "A blind spot, genius!"

"A polarising atmosphere is unpredictable, the Borg could be wrong. We'll keep this simple." Haytar interrupted, "Head to the planet Pullman." He stiffened in rage as Logan did nothing. "I gave you an order, proceed!" he spat out venomously.

"I'm afraid I can't do that Haytar sir." Logan Pullman replied coolly, "We're already entering the moon's atmosphere now."

As Haytar fell disturbingly silent, his face white with violent anger, Jake Ayala spoke up. "The Cardassian ship has followed us in. Torpedoes ready to fire at your command Chakotay." He put particular emphasis on Chakotay's name as he glared at Haytar.

"Take it from Seven." Chakotay instructed as calmly as he could.

"Polarisation optimal in 4, 3,, 2, 1, _fire_!" Seven called out from her console, forgetting to breathe as adrenaline rushed through her.

Ayala was quick off the mark, the torpedo sped out from the launching bay as soon as Seven spoke. The Maquis crew watched in gruesome fascination as the torpedo pierced the atmosphere of the moon, taking on an almost supernatural glow before slamming into the warship hull, causing a cascade of explosions to obliterate the ship in seconds. "God, I'm glad you thought of that rather than them Seven." Pullman murmured as the explosion cleared.

"I concur." Seven replied tightly before looking worriedly over at Chakotay, "How do we proceed?"

"I…" Chakotay began, pausing to look at Haytar, who growled at him.

"Now that you've committed mutiny, you may as well find out what command feels like." He sneered.

Chakotay took a sharp intake of breath. How could he be so petty at a time like this? Still he took up the challenge, addressing Pullman, "Get us to that depot." He muttered through gritted teeth. "Seven, Jake, get ready to use those torpedoes again."

"Yes sir." They both replied unquestioningly. At another time Chakotay may have found being obeyed in such a crisis unnerving, but he didn't have time to think of fear now.

Somehow Pullman managed to swing the ship around the moon with remarkable speed despite only using impulse and within moments they were lined up the depot below. "They're taking aim!" he warned sharply.

"Fire in 0.5 second bursts beginning _now_." Seven ordered firmly.

Chakotay watched as a firestorm of their making enveloped the surface of the planet below. It was satisfying and sickening all at once. "Did we hit it?" he whispered.

"A direct hit." Seven answered, then more softly as if reading his mind, "There are no civilians on that planet."

"Good." He breathed back in reply, quietly so that only she could hear him.

"More warships will be here within two point three minutes." She reported suddenly, ashamed of her distraction from her duty.

"We'd better get a move on then shouldn't we?" Chakotay said wryly.

"I can't avoid them without warp…" Pullman began to say but at that moment Chakotay's comm. badge beeped.

"Warp engines are back online Chakotay." Nathaniel Harrow shouted down the comm. line.

Chakotay ran a hand over his damp face in relief, they'd escaped with all lives intact. "Then fire them up and let's go!" he replied enthusiastically.

**A/n: This was fun to write, I'd forgotten how much I like writing Chakotay in "command" mode! I hope you liked it too, PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	19. A Traitor in Maquis Clothing?

**A/n: I'm sorry I haven't updated as much this week; I had my big Chinese exam yesterday so I was revising for that. On a better note, xXBrightsideBumblebeeXx has updated "Seven's Sins" with the first of the chapters I wrote, "Sloth". It's basically about Seven's attempt at having a break on the holodeck! Please read and review and I hope you like this new chapter too! :D**

Chakotay swallowed nervously as he lightly rapped the door which led into the small store room which doubled at the Maquis' covert headquarters. "Come in." A hoarse but undisputedly commanding voice echoed through the thin wood of the door. Steeling himself once again, Chakotay's hand lowered to the door's handle, twisting it open before slipping inside the room.

The room was as dark as he'd expected, Kenharan's optical nerves had been damaged in the dramatic attack on Cardassia Nine and were still sensitive to light as they slowly tried to heal, but where he had anticipated a look of resentful betrayal on the older man's face there was none. Instead, Kenhran's badly burned face twisted into a relieved smile at the sight of him which caught Chakotay off guard. All of the explanations for his mutinous takeover of the Valjean fled his mind and it was all he could do to stand respectfully to attention and say shakily, "I'm glad to see you up and about again sir."

Kenharan uttered a dark laugh, running a tense hand through his thinning dark hair. "It's not the first time I've heard that, although I'd venture to say that Cardassia Nine was one of my closer calls."

Chakotay grimaced, wondering, as the image of Kenharan's deathly pale and lifeless face as he dragged him away from the action, how anything could be much of a closer call than that. "I would like to think it would be your last sir, the Maquis need you."

Kenharan shook his head, appearing to be deep in thought. "Perhaps, but the Maquis is a cause; my death wouldn't have stopped it." A wince ran momentarily over his features and suddenly he looked exhausted, heaving a sigh, "Sometimes I wonder how long we're all going to be caught up in this…" He glanced up in surprise when Chakotay remained silent, "Aren't you going to spout the party line and say "it'll all end when we beat the Cardassians"?"

Chakotay shifted his feet awkwardly. That question had haunted his dreams since the events of Cardassia Nine, when would this end? When they beat back the Cardassians? When the Federation saw sense and sided with their own colonists? His conflicted internal dialogue expressed itself in a sigh as he finally answered, "I don't when this is "all going to end", as Seven has said, "there are too many variables to accurately predict the outcome", but I know one thing for sure, I'm going to keep fighting for what I think is right."

Kenharan mused this for a moment or two before remarking, "That young Borg is wise, in her own way, but certainly most people would say that you are wiser." He hooked a nearby chair which his foot and kicked it in Chakotay's direction. "Sit down; we have important matters to discuss."

Chakotay's fists clenched at his sides, here it comes… "I'd rather stand for this sir."

Kenharan shot him a bemused look, "What's wrong? You look like someone awaiting a firing squad!"

Chakotay pressed his lips together bravely, "Maybe, or maybe just someone who's about to be thrown out for insubordination."

Kenharan stared at him in disbelief. "Insubordination?" he echoed before breaking into harsh laughter, "You were at Starfleet for too long, did you really come here expecting some sort of court-martial?"

Now it was Chakotay's turn to look disbelieving. "Well, yes." He replied honestly, "I disregarded a direct chain of command…"

Kenharan nodded impatiently, "Yes, but by doing that you saved a pivotal mission, as well as saving my life and those of many others!" When he read Chakotay's shocked expression he leaned forward, "The Maquis can't hide in all the regulations you're used to Chakotay, leaders have to show themselves in the heat of battle, and you've done that, that's where Haytar failed." Kenharan then handed Chakotay a small PADD, "Now, I hope you realise that this is a big responsibility I'm putting in your hands and I'm trusting you to prove my judgement right."

Chakotay only allowed himself to glance down at the PADD when Kenharan stopped speaking and what he read made his heart hammer painfully in his chest. "You've informed all our command posts that _I'm _now the commander of the Valjean?"

Kenharan nodded, "Yes, I have." He confirmed seriously. "I expect you and your crew to be a great asset to our cause."

"I…" Chakotay started, having to pause as he fought around for the best words, but finally settling on simply, "We will be sir, I'll make sure of it."

"Good." Kenharan replied in a satisfied tone, "But remember Chakotay, just because mutiny was the best option this time doesn't mean I'll always condone it, understand?"

Chakotay would have laughed at the hint of teasing in Kenharan's tone if the weight of his new responsibility hadn't hit him right then. "You can trust me sir."

* * *

><p><strong>3 Months Later, Early April 2368.<strong>

"I still don't see the point in this course of action." Seven muttered in a mildly disgruntled tone as she drew the hood of her cloak tighter around her face to shield it from the blowing desert winds of Polok III.

"I don't see why not, weren't you listening to the discussion this morning?" Chakotay teased back as he trudged ahead through the winds to the relative safety of the biodome where the largest of the planet's beleaguered settlements clung to life. He sighed as she frowned, remembering their argument that had taken place after that very crew meeting. "Seven, you know we need to transfer more Maquis onto the Valjean and apparently these engineers are some of the best we have. We're _lucky _that they requested the Valjean."

"I cannot attest to their competence, they are _unknown _to us." Seven retorted insistently, "If we can get more efficient parts I will spend more time in Engineering…"

Chakotay waited until they were well inside the crowded market complex before pausing, tilting back her hood slightly to look her properly in the eyes. "You're running yourself ragged as it is, God knows you're a gifted engineer but we need you more at scans and tactical." He watched as her face relaxed slightly, looking repentant in the face of his confidence.

"I'm glad you believe so, I do prefer the Bridge." She admitted in a murmur, "But I still wouldn't trust these incomers." She added resolutely, her eyes once again freezing over with distrust.

"I would've thought that you would've thought that more crewmembers are more efficient. That's the Collective's mentality, right?" Chakotay asked in a whisper as they decided to start walking forward again.

"Yes…" Seven conceded reluctantly, "But the Collective is one mind, deception is impossible."

A jostling in the crowd stopped Chakotay from answering. He was nervous, as always, of Seven's Borg heritage been seen, but in her ankle-length, black hooded cloak and with Lucky's muscular bulk trotting beside her she made a forbidding figure most people avoided. Finally as they neared their destination, a pre-planned meeting place in the form of a clothing stall, he replied, "You may find they'll be just like us Seven, like Chell, Celes and the others, they'll be your comrades whether you like it or not until we're able to judge otherwise." Seeing her frosty expression, he continued to press, "Look, I'm not suggesting that you trust them unconditionally straight away, but at least give them the benefit of the doubt." He told her firmly, "Promise me?"

Seven met his eyes with her normal expression of regimented stoicism, but he could see her grinding her teeth as she answered, "I promise…Commander."

"Good." Chakotay muttered under his breath, putting a hand on her back to keep her close as he reached the stall. "I'm here to collect the shirt I ordered tailored." He said, very calmly when considered at this sentence was a code.

The keeper of the stall, who had been anonymous behind a rack of scarves, now turned to face him. He was instantly struck by her beauty. Her red-brown hair flowed past her shoulders and intelligent hazel eyes glittered at him from a well proportioned Bajoran face. "Here you are sir." She replied. Her voice had a sexy purr to it that made Chakotay's spine tingle involuntarily.

He dimly knew that he had to say something in reply, but somehow this woman had managed to strike him speechless. Only a discreet, but painful, elbow in the ribs from Seven brought him back to life and by that time Seven had impatiently said his line, "How much?"

The Bajoran ignored her, her eyes rolling up and down Chakotay's body in appraisal, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "3 Cardassian leks." She answered, waving her hand behind her as she did so. This was obviously her signal, as instantly two more figures appeared from the back of the stall. The woman leaned heavily over the desk to whisper in Chakotay's ear, "3 Maquis engineers for you Commander."

Seven bristled at this woman's forwardness but made the point of ignoring her, something Chakotay blatantly _wasn't _doing! She instead glared at the new arrivals. "Reveal yourselves." She hissed as they stood obscured in shadow

"Seven…" Chakotay warned under his breath, finally looking away from the intoxicating Bajoran.

"Seven?" A sharp female voice echoed, "Let me make it clear right now that I am not being referred to as a number, even for the sake of the Maquis."

A smile of disbelief spread across Chakotay's handsome features. "B'Elanna? B'Elanna Torres?"

The speaker appeared out of the shadows, she was petite but athletic looking, and Seven noted, even as she wondered as to this woman and Chakotay's relationship, a Klingon-Human hybrid. "Chakotay!" B'Elanna, for that was apparently her name, gasped out, almost laughing. "Chakotay, I can't believe it's you!" She leaned into his warm hug and whispered, "I never thought you'd join the Maquis…"

"Starfleet went too far." Chakotay replied tightly as he let her go and remembered Seven. "This is B'Elanna." He introduced hurriedly, "I know her from the Academy and if I remember rightly she was the best engineer in generation, according to the teachers."

"And I still am, drop-out or not." B'Elanna replied, only half in jest as she observed the strange woman beside her friend. Her face was almost completely hidden and she hadn't failed to notice that Chakotay hadn't introduced her. "Let you introduce you to the rest of your new team." She told Chakotay eagerly as a human male made himself known, "This is Gabriel Hogan."

Hogan reached over for Chakotay's hand, "Pleased to meet you Commander."

"Good to have you on our team Mr Hogan." Chakotay replied warmly before his eyes wandered distractedly back over to the Bajoran.

B'Elanna and the woman both laughed lightly, the Bajoran's laugh was huskier through, as she approached, seizing his hand in a deceptively strong grip. "Seska."

"Seska…" Chakotay repeated softly, squeezing her hand. "Good to have you."

"I'm sure." Seska replied with a bat of her eyelashes, now peering past him to study Seven. "And who are you, may I ask?"

Seven refrained from replying as Lucky, who had been pressed up against her legs, nostrils flaring, since they'd gone behind the stall, changed what had been a distressed whine when Seska had approached Chakotay to a deep growl as she came closer to Seven, baring his long teeth as he curled protectively into her. Seven put her hand on his raised hackles and replied coolly, "You may not ask, not here."

Seska's eyebrows rose elegantly as B'Elanna looked nervously at the dog. "What is he, an attack dog?" B'Elanna asked.

Chakotay shook his head, feeling embarrassed. "He's okay, he's just nervous around crowds that's all." He explained hurriedly, "Are you all ready to go?"

Hogan snorted, "I've been ready since the spoonheads blew up my parents, let's go."

Chakotay nodded in understanding and began to follow them out, pausing as Seven held back. "Chakotay, I…" she started to say tersely but he cut her off,

"Benefit of the doubt, remember? You promised me Seven." He reminded her coldly as he followed the others.

Seven buried her hand in Lucky's damp fur, feeling his body quivering with anxiety as she tried to calm him. "Yes Chakotay, I remember." She mumbled uneasily as she obediently followed him.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! Please remember my chapter of "Seven's Sins" too. :D**


	20. Not Withstanding Accusations

"This is it?" Seska asked softly as the group of five consisting of Chakotay, Seven, B'Elanna, Seska and Hogan paused in their trek through the desert in front of an ageing, battered, and solitary vessel. "And I was under the belief that I was joining the Maquis fleet." She remarked drily, scanning every inch of the ship with an expert eye in order to commit it to memory.

Chakotay chuckled under his breath, fighting the unfamiliar heat of embarrassment as he looked between the Valjean, the condition of which he'd been proud of until minutes before, and the haughty beauty that was Seska. "Don't worry; there are plenty of us, just not here…"

"Thankfully. Even the Valjean being here is an inefficient use of the Maquis' resources." Seven interjected impatiently, striding off towards the Valjean's entrance hatch before Chakotay could reprimand her rudeness. B'Elanna couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise when the strange woman, whose species she still couldn't identify because of the sinister protection of the cloak, managed to open the obviously stiff hatch single-handedly without much apparent effort. She must be Vulcan, B'Elanna decided, only the species known by Klingons as "pointy eared mice" could be that strong and that icy at the same time, but instinctive unease still settled in her gut even after that conclusion.

Chakotay, noticing B'Elanna's suspicious frown cast in Seven's direction, hurriedly cleared his throat. It would be better to get them fully on board, both literally and figuratively, before revealing Seven's origins. "So, what do you think of your new ship Torres?"

"Plenty." B'Elanna retorted with a smirk, "I've seen Klingon garbage haulers in better condition…" She teased, eyes twinkling at her old friend and one time Academy crush. "But I think I'll be able to work with it, all I can say is that you're lucky to have me."

"We certainly are." Chakotay replied, his tone light and in keeping with hers but his eyes serious. "Ready to get started?"

Seska answered for both of them, already strutting confidently down the path Seven and Lucky had cleared, "Definitely Commander, I was getting a little worried there that you were going to indulge in that horrible Cardassian habit of using your ship to get women." Her voice was so husky with innuendo that a stronger man that Chakotay would've blushed, but as it was he managed to control the urge by being the first to follow Seven into the Valjean.

* * *

><p>"So what are the new recruits like Seven?" Chell asked, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement as the ex-drone walked into the Bridge with Lucky padding along at her side.<p>

Seven swiftly lowered her hood, brushing errant particles of sand from her hair as she did so before meeting the Bolian's gaze coolly, "Unimpressive." She replied quickly, tight-lipped.

"They can't be that bad Seven." Celes said in exasperation, just to see Seven's eyes narrow in reply. Trying to lighten the mood, she jokingly asked, "Come on, at least one of the new guys _has_ to be good looking!"

"Don't you get enough fun out of ogling Chakotay and Logan as it is Celes?" Ayala queried with a grin, "Not to mention us two here." He indicated himself and Chell with a wink, causing Celes to laugh and wave a tricorder threateningly in his direction.

Seven sighed slightly at her crewmates' near constant preoccupation with teasing while mulling over whether Gabriel Hogan could be categorised as "good looking". Since she had barely glanced at him, she settled for a small shrug. "Two of them are women. As for the man…"

Both Chell and Ayala perked up their ears at the first part of her answer. "Who cares about the man? I'd like to meet a female engineer…" Chell began eagerly with a glint in his eye before a laugh from the doorway interrupted him.

"You're going to Chell, don't worry." Chakotay said in amusement as B'Elanna stifled her incredulous laugh beside him. "This is our new team of engineers, B'Elanna Torres, Seska and Gabriel Hogan…" He stopped as he heard all three of his new crewmembers gasp in horror.

"She…She's _Borg_!" B'Elanna choked out in disbelief as she stared at the woman Chakotay had called Seven, who not only had unmistakeable metal scarring her face but who even more damningly didn't even flinch at the accusation.

Even the normally unflappable Seska stiffened in shock beside her. "How is that even possible?" she questioned tersely, although the evidence that it _was _possible stood before her as a mutilated half-human. Her mind frantically began to work through all the intelligence she'd ever been privy to about the existence of…freelance drones but came up with nothing.

"Who gives a damn…" Hogan choked out as he stepped out, pale faced and grim, his hand shaking with fear as he began to extract a small phaser from a holster hidden under his coat.

Chakotay was there before he had a chance to lift the weapon to the level of Seven's knees, seizing the other man's wrist in a powerfully crushing grip. "Don't." He commanded sharply, eyes blazing with fire as he eased the phaser out of Hogan's hand and handed it to Ayala. "I realise that this is a shock for you, all of you, but Seven is as much a member of the crew as any of you and I won't have her threatened or hurt in anyway, is that understood?" He explained with an eerie calm, his frame relaxing as Hogan nodded.

"I understand, sir." He answered shakily, gulping as he met Seven's gaze, who stepped forward slowly, letting soft honesty into her tone as she looked at him sympathetically.

"I have been liberated from the Collective for four years. I will not harm you or any of my crewmates." She told him as kindly as she could, but it was still awkward for her to explain her situation, normally Chakotay, even the diplomat, introduced her to new crewmembers in a more stable situation.

B'Elanna snorted incredulously, "Once a Borg, always a Borg!" she spat out with all the Klingon venom she could summon before glaring angrily at Chakotay, "How could you deal with her? She has assimilated people for Kahless' sake…"

Seven now shifted her attention to the half-Klingon, agitated by her attack on Chakotay. "If you wish to accuse me of something, address _me_, not Chakotay."

"Fine…" B'Elanna began to fume in retort but froze as she was met with the Borg's icy gaze, a primeval fear prickling her gut that just made her angrier, she hated showing weakness and she wasn't going to let Seven see it. "If the Maquis are willing to take the risk of carrying a murderous drone just to kill a few more murdering Cardassians then I suppose I'm all for it." She muttered sarcastically.

Seven's gut twisted in revulsion at the thought of being put on the same level as the Cardassians and her fists clenched in outrage. "I suppose if that's the case then you'll just need to hope I only show the Cardassians my murderous tendencies!" she threw back.

Her voice was more heated with anger and hurt than she'd intended it to be, and guilt prickled in her heart when she heard Chakotay say in gentle warning, "Seven…" It wasn't normally like this, she'd always heeded Kolopak's advice when someone was hateful towards her, to deflect it with calm and understanding until they understood, but this time she'd been unable to control herself. A large part of her wanted these two women, both the volatile Klingon and the untrustworthy Bajoran who'd watched the argument with an almost amused look on her face, to be wary of her. If she had to tolerate Chakotay's displeasure in order for them to leave then so be it.

**A/n: Ugh, this chapter was so hard to write! I hope it wasn't too bad. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	21. Engineering Jealousies

**A/n: Thanks to Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay for requesting a new chapter for this, I needed to be spurred on to get this finished. **

"Next up is Engineering, where the three of you will be working most of the time." Chakotay explained as he continued to lead the newcomers on an, admittedly short, tour of the Valjean.

"We actually go down to reach Engineering." Seven commented from up ahead as she pulled open the hatch in the bulkhead and then promptly stepped down the small flight of steps which led down into Engineering.

Chakotay saw the nervy, questioning glances which passed between B'Elanna, Hogan and Seska and knew they were wondering if Seven was really that literal. He wondered for a second whether to tell them that at one point, when he'd first met her, she had been but now it was just her way of teasing him. He decided against it, opting instead for his own wry reply as he and the others joined her. "Remember the principle of a figure of speech Seven?"

"Perfectly." She answered, quick as a whip, while reading over the diagnostic readings from the nearest console, "But that doesn't mean I can't correct such misleading phrases." She added, glancing over her shoulder to catch the smile he was trying to hide from her before purposefully heading straight for the warp core which towered over the otherwise cramped space. Seven couldn't help but suppose that the Borg would have categorised this place as a basic engine room rather than a full Engineering station, but she was gradually learning to accept what was available to the Maquis _was _basic and she had to adapt accordingly.

"Well, it comforts me to know that _you_ at least can handle her." Seska told Chakotay approvingly while glancing pointedly at Hogan, who flushed, obviously the panicky reaction he'd had to the drone wasn't about to be forgotten.

Chakotay nodded, the sultry tone of her voice obscuring the nature of what otherwise may have been considered condescending words from his consciousness. "I guess you could put it like that." He responded awkwardly, watching as she walked off to study the different console, a slight but definite swing to her hips. He then caught B'Elanna staring at him with markedly raised eyebrows and felt his cheeks colour, "What?"

B'Elanna's gaze shot between him and Seska before she answered with a non-committal shrug and moved on to her own concerns, "I guess I'm also relieved your drone listens to you…" She sent an uneasy glare in the direction of Seven's back, "…to an extent…"

Chakotay's lips curled in amusement. "Are you saying you're going to obey my orders without question 100% of the time B'Elanna?" he queried, trying to lighten the mood.

B'Elanna bit her lip in frustration; she didn't appreciate being compared to some resurrected Borg drone! "Probably not…" She admitted, having the grace to be sheepish, "But I still don't understand why you're protecting her, why she's here at all! It's not as if the Borg are repressed by the Cardassians…"

"She lost the only home she knew, just like we both did B'Elanna." Chakotay interrupted seriously. B'Elanna saw a glint of quickly disguised grief, something she'd long since learned to recognise in others, pass over his eyes as he that and so bit back her incredulous retort, letting him continue. "I trust her B'Elanna, and if this is going to work you need to trust me."

"I do trust you Chakotay, completely." B'Elanna immediately assured him, feeling hurt that he would think otherwise.

"That's always good to hear." He admitted softly with a small smile before a sigh left his lips. "You are going to have to work together with Seven though, she's been the only what I would call qualified engineer we've had on this ship since we started this."

B'Elanna's jaw clenched. "Is that your way of warning me that I'm going to have to deal with a territorial Borg?" she asked him through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing in distaste.

Chakotay allowed himself a laugh at that. "That's not how I would put it exactly but…" He gave her an emphatic look, "…if that's the case you'd better get started, she's almost as stubborn as you." B'Elanna's only reply to that was a snort before she stalked off towards the warp core.

* * *

><p>"Let's get one thing straight first off…" B'Elanna began darkly as she stopped just behind where Seven was working. "I'm the boss here and I'll keep this ship running my way, got it?"<p>

Seven studied her coolly. "I believe that is the definition of the occupation of Chief Engineer." She replied levelly, unperturbed.

"I'm glad you understand." B'Elanna replied in the same tone before bending down to peer into the inner workings of the bulkhead Seven had opened up. "What's the problem here?"

"The warp core's plasma injectors are seizing up, lowering warp core efficiency by 35.1%." Seven reported as she picked up several new, or to be more accurate used but functioning, components. "I am going to replace them."

B'Elanna took back one of the components, polyrubber casing. "We don't need peak warp efficiency right now, we're only returning to base." She pointed out, holding out the casing. "This could be used to reline the wiring to the malfunctioning replicators and sonic showers everyone is complaining about on the Bridge." She then picked up the spare iso-linear control chip. "And this can be used to recalibrate the short range sensors. You can't justify the use of so many parts just to get to your perfect Borg efficiency targets."

Seven's brows furrowed, irritation flashing through her pale eyes. "You deny the importance of a fully functional warp core?" she asked icily.

B'Elanna snorted, "We're going at warp now with no problems aren't we? We have to prioritise. Beggars can't be choosers."

"I _chose_ to maintain the warp core as much as possible." Seven muttered.

"Maybe." B'Elanna conceded with a shrug, "But I'm ordering you to go recalibrate the short range sensor array."

"Understood." Seven agreed somewhat grudgingly, snatching up the control chip.

* * *

><p>"Penny for your thoughts?" Chakotay asked Seska quietly as he approached where she was standing by the warp core, leaning on the rail with an unreadable look on her face.<p>

Seska gave him a questioning smirk, "The Borg is right, you do come out with some strange sayings Commander." She sighed and propped her elbows up on the rail, noting with satisfaction how his eyes lingered unconsciously on her décolletage. "I'm just thinking of how far I've come, I've finally met people who see things the way I do, are willing to fight for what's right."

"I like to think that's true." Chakotay said with a modest smile, captivated by her pensive expression. "Do you mind me asking where you started from?" he asked gently.

"In a refugee camp on Bajor." Seska replied bluntly, "Delora." She clarified without batting an eyelash as Chakotay winced. Everyone knew that Delora was one of the most deprived camps on Bajor, and they were all considered hellish. "I know I degraded your ship earlier…" She said softly, in an apologetic tone, "But it really is a palace compared to what I'm used to."

"It's _your _ship now too remember." Chakotay reminded her, feeling new warmth rising in his chest as she smiled gratefully at him.

Before he could bask in that smile for long however, Seven stalking past them caught Seska's attention. "Doesn't look like her and B'Elanna have gotten off to the best of starts." She observed passively.

Chakotay sighed heavily, "I didn't expect them to, in some ways they're too similar, but that means that they have the capacity to understand one another, if they back down a little." He replied with more hope than he felt.

"I have a feeling that will take a lifetime…or two." Seska mused as she studied his thoughtful, undeniably handsome face appreciatively.

Seven meanwhile had also returned their interest as she walked past. She felt her hackles rise inexplicably at the sight of their intimate tête-à-tête, although the more dominant logical side of her acknowledged that it was better for Chakotay to interact with the woman in order to judge her attributes, but was it really necessary for the Bajoran to flaunt her _physical _attributes to blatantly by practically draping herself over the rail in front of him? This tiny, but seething, thought stayed with her as she passed them and reached the console. She was so absorbed she jumped when Logan Pullman's voice hit her ears, "So Seven, how do you rate the interlopers?" he asked, seeing her evident unease as she met his eyes.

Seven gave a controlled swallow before answering. "They're…acceptable…for now." She conceded reluctantly.

"Just waiting for them to adapt around you then huh?" Logan teased her gently.

Seven gave a small laugh, by now aware of her own flaw. "An accurate conclusion." She admitted wryly.

"So, what do you…" Seska trailed off as she realised she no longer held Chakotay's full attention. He was watching Seven and the strapping young pilot out of the corner of his eye, bristling momentarily as the Borg laughed at something the other man said, his eyes narrowing as his jaw tightened. "Chakotay?" Seska probed, irritated by what she read in his reaction. "Is something wrong?"

He blinked at her words, shaking his head slightly as if coming out of a daze. "No, nothing." He said easily, as if unaware of his own distraction. Seska had been around men long enough to understand what he didn't seem to, he was protective of the drone, perhaps even possessive! He certainly didn't like that pilot being around the blonde. He probably wasn't even aware of the subconscious jealousy, men often weren't, but Seska felt a violent spark of jealousy fire up within her anyway. She was viciously competitive, a large part of why she'd risen through the ranks of the Order so quickly, and she'd be damned if she'd leave a man in the grip of some frigid mutant Borg!

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D If anyone has any ideas for a Valentine's Day fic, please let me know! **


	22. Birthdays and Stowaways

**A/n: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the final chapter of "Fragments". I hope you like this chapter too, reviews will punch Seska in the face, lol.**

I still don't see how the leaders could possibly expect us to attack Orvin!" B'Elanna fumed incredulously as she again read their newest orders from the Maquis chiefs, "We told them in our last report that we were down to our last plasma torpedo…"

Seska leaned languidly over the circular table which was not only used for tactic discussions like this one but also where the Valjean's crew ate their meals in shifts, hoping impatiently for Chakotay arrival as she narrowed her eyes challengingly at the hot-blooded half Klingon, "Come on, B'Elanna, don't be such a pessimist! We could destroy that rusting heap of a barracks with phasers alone."

B'Elanna frowned angrily, sometimes her friend's over-confident, almost fatalistic perspective on things irritated the hell out of her! "Yeah, maybe if phasers were 100% functional…" She countered with a snort, "You're an engineer too Seska, can't you be a little more realistic?"

"In actuality…" Seven cut in coldly, "…it would take a minimum of five plasma torpedoes and several volleys of phaser fire in order to disable an installation of Orvin's magnitude." She hadn't really intended to back up B'Elanna, she was just stating fact after all, but she still caught B'Elanna's nod of agreement and Seska's smouldering glare. In the two months since the small crew had expanded to include the two women, Seven had formed a begrudging respect for the Klingon, who was the best engineer since being freed from the Borg, and although their relationship was still very fractious, they were now able to tolerate each other to a certain extent. On the other hand, any interaction with Seska now simmered with animosity, a feeling the Bajoran seemed intent on stoking.

"Maybe you're not being inventive enough with your strike plans Seven." Seska muttered dismissively, a comment which had the desired effect of making the drone stiffen.

Chell shifted awkwardly in his seat, feeling out of place among the battling female personalities. "Maybe we don't have to do it, we could tell the chiefs we never got the message, communications around here are pretty terrible…"

Logan sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. "Not that it wouldn't serve them right, considering that it's obvious how little attention they pay to our reports, but I don't think it's a good idea to ignore the leaders. We're fragmented enough as it is…"

"I agree." Chakotay's deep voice suddenly resonated through the room as he walked towards the table, setting down a large PADD before continuing, "There's no way we can risk breaking free of what leadership we have entirely, we won't beat back the Cardassians alone." He waited until they were all paying perfect attention, most nodding to his words, with the notable exception of Seska, and then added authoritatively, "Which is why we're going to destroy the Orvin barracks as ordered."

"How exactly?" Nathaniel Harrow piped up curiously, though with a nervous glint in his eye.

Chakotay held up the PADD in evidence, "We've been given the authority to purchase the weapons needed for this strike and more. Plasma torpedoes, phaser banks, Federation grade rifles and shield upgrades."

Seven felt her eyebrows rising doubtfully as she calculated their resources, they barely stretched to cover the fuel to get to Orvin. "We do not possess enough items of monetary value to purchase such items Chakotay." She pointed out quietly, as if trying to let him down gently.

Chakotay winced slightly at the reminder of their straightened circumstances, then forced himself to brighten. "I know that Seven." He acknowledged, "The leaders know that too, which is why they've given me the responsibility of bargaining with the latinum seized during the raid on Tanak G'Nor in order to secure these weapons." He took a deep breath as his crew processed this information. The raid on Tanak G'Nor, a deadly but successful raid on a Cardassian space station the previous month, had yielded more medical supplies and essentials than the whole Maquis had managed to garner in six months.

"They must trust you a lot to hand the deal over to you Chakotay." Celes whispered in awe.

"It would seem that way." Chakotay replied modestly, not wanting to draw attention away from the plan. "I've got samples of the merchandise in the Cargo Bay, they came on board during the repair stop on Elani Prime. I have to show them to the weapons dealers on Meris III the day after tomorrow."

Logan immediately sprang up from his chair, "I'll go set the new course right now."

Chakotay nodded gratefully as Jake Ayala spoke up, "Who's on the team going with you to meet these guys?"

Chakotay braced his shoulders, he'd been dreading this part of the conversation. "No one." He finally answered simply.

"What?" B'Elanna exclaimed disbelievingly, "You _can't _be serious Chakotay…"

"I am." Chakotay answered firmly, "It was part of the deal all along that I meet them alone, they're very paranoid about security apparently…"

"Then don't do the deal! It's a suicide mission!" Seska spat out, eyes flaming. "Are you really so sure of yourself that you think you can get out of this alive if you do it alone? How can you possibly risk…"

"That's enough!" Chakotay cut her off sharply, making the entire room of protests fall silent, but it was Seska he focused on with an intensity which scorched itself in the minds of everyone else. "If we don't get these weapons, the Maquis is finished, gone." He stated unequivocably, using the same words Kenharan had deployed to convince him, "I have to make this work, all of you need to trust me…"

"I _refuse_ to sit up here while you're off getting yourself killed!" Seska hissed, unmoved by his speech and storming out of the room before Chakotay or anyone else could say another word.

* * *

><p>"You were awfully quiet in there."<p>

Seven flinched as she heard Chakotay's voice at her back, but refused to look up from her console as she stoically replied, "It appeared you had already made up your mind whatever any of us said."

Chakotay heaved a regretful sigh, "I suppose it must have seemed that way, but you of all people Seven must know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't absolutely have to."

Seven could feel his eyes probing into her back and reluctantly turned around to meet his searching gaze as she answered, "Yes, I know that." She murmured tightly. "It is dangerous to go…alone." She forced the words out through a fearful lump in her throat, "Why…"

Chakotay, well aware of the fact that for Seven doing something "alone" was an anathema, a nightmare, gave her clenched metallic hand a small squeeze. "I was told that if I was found with someone I'd certainly be killed, these traders are apparently protective of their privacy."

"They would be, since they are conducting illegal activities." Seven muttered bitterly, deciding to overlook the fact that the Maquis too were, technically, criminals. "You have always avoided such people until now, you said it gave the Maquis a bad name to be associated with slavers and narcotic dealers."

Chakotay stiffened, in her blunt innocence, Seven often voiced the unspoken words of his own conscience. "I know, that was idealistic of me." He admitted quietly before taking a deep guilty breath, "But to survive this battle with the Cardassians, we're going to have to get a little dirty ourselves."

Seven's brows furrowed, "I doubt we will get far if you give up on idealism, it has always been highly unlikely that we defeat the Cardassians at all."

Chakotay grimaced at her, he didn't like remembering how little belief Seven actually had in the Maquis cause, no matter how much she hated the Cardassians, it intensified his constant worry that he and he alone had dragged her into this. "Don't say that Seven." He told her tersely, causing her to bow her head in apology, making his heart soften again. "Listen, I'll be fine, there's no reason they won't accept the deal." He reassured her with more confidence than he felt before impulsively adding teasingly, "And besides, nothing would happen to me on your birthday, that wouldn't be fair."

Seven stared at him blankly, "What has the impending twentieth anniversary of my birth to do with your successful return from this mission?"

"Just…nothing." Chakotay chuckled as his teasing fell flat. "I wouldn't be able to give you a present if I didn't come back, would I?"

Panic momentarily filled Seven's eyes at the thought of him not returning. "Do not say that!" she commanded sharply, "And besides I don't celebrate my birthday…" Her breath caught in her throat as Chakotay gave her an unexpected peck on the cheek.

He grinned mischievously at her surprised expression, her hand resting on her suddenly burning cheek. "Well, many happy returns for the day anyway." He said softly before backing away. "How's the shuttle looking? Will it get me down to Meris III?"

Seven swallowed hastily as she struggled to regain her inexplicably lost composure. "Yes, I should think so…"

Seska tried not to seethe as she watched this conversation from behind the shuttle, which se was working on to fashion herself a hiding place for the trip to Meris III. She'd been truthful when she'd said she refused to be left behind…

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D **


	23. Alone

Chakotay felt a tense sigh leave his throat, his jaw clenching, as his shuttle made the final dive into Meris III's murky atmosphere and the reassuring outline of the Valjean hovering in orbit disappeared completely from his view. He gulped compulsively as he ordered the shuttle to plunge deeper through the planet's mustard yellow skies. The clouds swirled around the sides of his small shuttle like a deadly desert sandstorm and the Valjean may as well have been a mirage in that scene, he was on his own. Even the thought itself sent a chill up his spine and despite himself he pulled the tiny transporter beacon out of its hiding place in the lining of his sleeve and gripped it hard as if it were one of the good luck charms from his childhood. When Seven had given it to him they'd very nearly had a full blown argument. He couldn't risk bringing such a covert piece of technology into these negotiations, the traders were already paranoid enough about being cheated, but for once Seven and B'Elanna had joined forces against him to insist, assuring him that it would only be traceable if he activated it. By the time any of his enemies realised what the device was he would hopefully be back on his shuttle and flying back to the Valjean at full warp. Since this plan seemed sound enough, and Chakotay was just as desperate to get this trade off finished with his life intact as Seven and B'Elanna were, he'd agreed to take the beacon as a last resort. As the ship steadily approached the surface however and the sight of the bleak but imposing complex of deuterium mines loomed up menacingly before him, he found that the possession of one tiny short range transporter beacon didn't offer him much comfort…

The shuttle's comm. system suddenly blared into life. "Maquis vessel, land at these coordinates immediately. Diversions will not be tolerated."

"You're my welcoming committee then?" Chakotay muttered tersely under his breath as he read the transmitted coordinates. "I'll be there." He confirmed confidently down the comm. in reply.

"Our representatives will meet you." The other voice said smoothly, almost like an upmarket salesman, but his next words clarified the situation, "Weapons will not be tolerated, if you have any this deal will not end well for you." He advised darkly.

Chakotay inhaled sharply as he reluctantly withdrew his phaser from his belt and laid it down beside him. "Understood." He replied levelly, only releasing his breath as the comm. line unceremoniously cut off. They may as well have a shoot to kill message broadcast through the quadrant, he couldn't help but think morbidly as he put his Academy pilot training course to good use in order to land the shuttle in the darkened crater they'd set aside as his landing bay. His trained eye could tell, even without the aid of scanners, that the soil that he'd landed on was a quicksand of the slag left over from the deuterium mines. It would take all of his skill to get the shuttle back off the ground. He groaned at his stupidity for not questioning their coordinates and for a moment debated within himself whether these supplies were worth the risk of being trapped in this hellhole… The thought of his friends and crewmates being defenceless in the face of a Cardassian attack shoved that fear aside, he _had _to do this.

He didn't get anymore time to consider his limited range of options as a hammering knock that made the whole shuttle shiver struck against the exit hatch. "My bosses don't like waiting Maquis!" snarled a new voice roughly.

Chakotay immediately opened the hatch as smoothly as he could, taking a leaf from Seven's book and moulding his expression into an expressionless mask even as he came eye to eye with the growling Tarrellian thug who'd called him out. "So, you're my escort." He commented coolly as he mentally assessed the man standing in front of him. The Tarrellian's massive bulk was mostly fat rather than muscle and his slightly bloodshot eyes indicated that he'd been hitting the synthehol a little too hard. If it comes to it, Chakotay decided in a moment of strange detachment, I can take him.

Another, markedly more commanding and arrogant voice interrupted his thoughts. "Actually he's _my _escort. I'm the one who's taking you into all this." The acid green eyes of the speaker, a Tzenkethi, glittered in malicious anticipation.

"Well then, I suppose my group and I owe you our thanks." Chakotay replied civilly, trying to keep the distaste from his voice. "But I'd like to get this started."

The Tzenkethi smirked, "Ah yes, the impatience of the Maquis is well known in this sector, although I warn you that it won't do you much good here." He glared demandingly at his Tarrellian bodyguard, "Check him!"

Chakotay fought not to flinch as the Tarrelian meticulously ran a tricorder over him. "Nothing." He finally concluded.

"Good." The Tzenkethi answered, an insincere smile flickering over his lips as he looked at Chakotay. "It appears you've followed the rules so far, so it's time for us to follow them. You'll get your supplies." He gestured ahead of them and Chakotay obediently followed with trepidation in his heart, only to find a few seconds later that he'd been transported into the corner of a crowded bar.

"Isn't this a little conspicuous to do your sort of work?" He hissed at the Tzenkethi as he scanned the room. From the view out of the windows this bar was at the edge of one of the deuterium pits and therefore presumably one of the busiest places on this withered planet.

The Tzenkethi shrugged nonchalantly, "You have to be mercenary to work here in the first place, for a few strips of latinum they all look the other way."

"Looks like you're right…" Chakotay muttered resignedly as his eyes skimmed over the multitude of faces in the room, Andorian, Breen, Jilani, Bolian, not to mention a good number of humans and even a Vulcan, who was discreetly watching the unfolding scene with narrowed eyes.

The Tarrellian, who had disappeared for a moment, reappeared at the Tzenkethi's shoulder and muttered something in his ear. "Ah, it seems they're ready for you." He informed Chakotay dismissively before leading him into a claustrophobically small side room.

Chakotay choked back a gasp as he saw the group gathered in the room, their green skin reflecting the dim light. The Orion Syndicate, the leadership were making deals with the Orion Syndicate? They were known to humans as the Mafia of the Alpha Quadrant for a reason, notoriously industrious in their criminality with a finger in every pie, as well as being mercilessly violent and immoral. His gut twisted sickeningly as he realised he could've sold out to the Cardassians before he even got here, and the Valjean could be…

"Aren't you going to give us an introduction Maquis? We don't take kindly to rudeness." One of the Orions said icily while giving him a penetrating stare, sizing him up.

He'd give them something to size up all right. He strode forward, PADD with monetary calculations in hand. "I'm a Maquis, I also have what you asked for, and you apparently have what _I _need. Do we have a deal?"

To Chakotay's surprise, the Orion drew back from him slightly, an ingratiating smile plastered on his face. "Certainly." He replied, taking the PADD and reading the numbers splayed across it. "You have the means, so we have what you need." He waved a hand behind him and the lights switched on fully, revealing that half of the room was filled with boxes. He handed Chakotay a phaser rifle from one of them, which Chakotay examined before scanning the whole every box with his tricorder. He wasn't about to let himself be conned.

When it all seemed satisfactory, he met the Orion's eyes firmly. "We have a deal. I'll take it." With calm he didn't feel he laid a large transport conduit on the floor and activated it, feeling relief shoot through him with every box which dematerialised to reappear on the Valjean.

Only the big containers, the most important ones carrying the plasma torpedoes, were left when the Orion suddenly snapped "Wait!" from behind him and the transporter stopped abruptly.

Chakotay wheeled around angrily, "We have a deal!"

"Part of that deal was that you were to come alone!" the Orion growled back as a cloaked figure was suddenly shoved brutally towards Chakotay's feet.

The figure stumbled and sank to its knees, the hood falling as it did so to reveal the familiar sight of a head of shining red brown hair and a pair of, now panicked, green eyes. "Seska?" Chakotay whispered in disbelieving horror.

**A/n: I know I said this chapter would be long and action packed, but due to time restraints and rewrites I decided to split it into two chapters. I hope you're not too disappointed. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	24. Escape One Threat, Fall into Another

**A/n: Thanks to Sweetdeath04 for starting a new pro-C/7 fic called "Masks". It's set in the aftermath of "Equinox" and is brilliant so far! :D She requested an update of this fic and here it is, I hope everyone likes it.**

"Seska?" The head Orion gave a bitter laugh as he repeated Chakotay's shocked whisper, then inclined his ungainly green head to the Tarrellian, who promptly delivered a sharp kick to the kneeling woman's ribs. The laughter increased in ferocity as Chakotay couldn't completely hide his wince as he heard bones crack under the Tarrellian's boot. "So she _is_ one of yours Maquis?" The Orion taunted, stepping over Seska's crumpled body to come within inches of Chakotay himself. "There's really no point in denying it…" He snarled directly into Chakotay's face, flecks of his saliva splattering onto Chakotay's shirt. "Your little…Bajoran whore here…" He smirked lewdly at Seska before yanking violently on the chains that restrained her to drag her upright, "…was spying on us." Amusement flickered through his eyes when Chakotay remained silent, "I can see why you chose her, although she's not particularly skilled. We found her lurking after you within minutes."

Adrenaline had quickly thawed the shock which had frozen Chakotay's brain at the sight of Seska and now, as he stood inhaling the Orion's breath that was even fouler than his words or his spit, he fought to conjure up an escape. In the heat of his initial anger, he'd considered denying knowing her but her panic filled eyes staring at him pleadingly had rendered that option impossible even before the Orion had seen through it. He'd need to talk them both out of this. Before he could say a word however, Seska had twisted around in her chains to glare at the Orion with desperate passion, "It's not what you think! I was just trying to protect him…" She gasped out hurriedly, "Back him up and get him out of here quicker…"

The Orion man sneered at her as he smacked her hard across the face. To Chakotay's surprise she took the strike without a sound. "I don't care if you're the midwife coming to inform him of his first born son woman!" The Orion snapped, "It was bad idea to come here, a _deadly _idea!"

"You're right, it _was_ a bad idea." Chakotay agreed levelly, trying to ignore Seska's betrayed expression as he met her eyes over the shoulder of the Orion with a seething glare of warning. "But she's right about you having the wrong idea about her coming here. All members of my crew were ordered to remain at their posts, an order she ignored without my knowledge." He continued in as confident a tone as he could possibly project, "We don't want any trouble, hell, we've paid you in full. I'll take the rest of our purchases and deal with her myself. You have my word we won't come back to interfere with your…services again." Chakotay held the leader's gaze as he stood to his full height, towering over his gaoler, while pushing his fingers discreetly up his sleeve to reach the transporter beacon.

The Orion snorted incredulously as his cronies began to laugh behind him. "What good is the word of a Maquis, especially one who has already betrayed us?"

Chakotay saw him signal ominously to his muscle men as he turned away and, guessing what was coming, slammed the tiny beacon now in his hand onto the final crate of plasma torpedoes and seized Seska's chains with his other hand as the resulting beam out of the torpedoes brought the chaos he'd anticipated. "Come on!" he hissed at Seska angrily as the guards began to take in the disappearance of the torpedoes and realise what he had done. The leader gave a howl of rage as Chakotay ducked out of the room, dragging Seska out behind him and swinging blindly at his pursuers as he did so. "We have to get out of here _now_!" he yelled at her as she also tried to fight them off and head for the door at the same time.

"They took my phaser!" Seska panted in frustration as she lashed out despite her wounds.

Suddenly a new fist appeared seemingly out of nowhere to deck the Tarrellian who'd been trying to pin Chakotay down. "Need some help here man?" The newcomer, a muscular human male, asked breathlessly.

Chakotay didn't get a chance to reply before a second voice deadpanned, "I believe that would be logical assumption Mr Vendera." To Chakotay's surprise, it was the dark skinned Vulcan he'd noticed earlier.

"Yeah, I'd be happy for you to assume that." He replied hurriedly as the three of them working together managed to create a gap in the onslaught. "Let's go! I've got a shuttle waiting!" He told them as they all reached the doorway and plunged through it into the crater ridden desert. He decided to omit the fact that the traders could've destroyed said shuttle as soon as he'd landed.

"There it is!" Seska cried out in relief, having spotted the shuttle unharmed beyond the next sand dune.

"Not for long…" Chakotay muttered as he saw most of the people who'd been in the bar pour out towards the shuttle. "We have to hurry." Hastily, he took Seska, who was slowed by the weight of the chains attached to her wrists, into his arms and ran for the shuttle with Vendera and the Vulcan right alongside him. They reached the cockpit and slammed the door shut just as the enraged mob following them caught up. Chakotay barely had time to note with satisfaction the presence of the plasma torpedoes in the hold before firing up the engines and punching through the planet's atmosphere at full impulse, a manoeuvre that would have got him struck off in a heartbeat at the Academy. He immediately opened the comm. line to the Valjean, "B'Elanna, get those engines revving and tell Pullman to get himself ready!"

B'Elanna's voice crackled worriedly through the line. "What happened? We got every box except the plasma torpedoes…"

Chakotay choked out a laugh, almost hysterical with relief. "I decided I should carry those myself."

* * *

><p>Seska waited until they were safely enclosed within the Valjean's Shuttle Bay before she risked clambering up from the floor where Chakotay had unceremoniously dumped her from his arms. "Chakotay, I…"<p>

"Not now Seska." He ground out darkly without glancing back to look at her, instead turning his attention to their two saviours. "You two certainly saved more than our asses back there, thanks." He said with warm gratitude, "Are you okay with being on a Maquis ship for a few hours? We can drop you off somewhere when this all cools down…"

Vendera exchanged a glance with the Vulcan, "Don't worry about it, I think you could call us Maquis sympathisers. As for where I want to go, all I know is that I'd better not go back down there. Are you looking for any new recruits?"

Chakotay grinned at the other man, a weight lifting off of him immediately. He'd have had to confine to quarters otherwise, in case they gave information to the Federation, and after what they'd just done that was the last thing he wanted to do. "Well, you've certainly proven yourselves today. I'd be proud to have either one of you as part of my crew." He gripped Vendera's weather beaten hand, "I'm Chakotay."

"Kurt Vendera." Vendera introduced himself more fully, "Good to meet you Chakotay." He indicated the Vulcan, who nodded to Chakotay coolly, "That's Tuvok."

Chakotay nodded to Tuvok respectfully, "Welcome aboard Mr Tuvok."

Tuvok was stopped from making a reply, if any, by the abrupt opening of the shuttle's door to allow Seven and B'Elanna to rush unthinkingly in. Seven paled as she saw Chakotay's bloody lip and black eye, which was rapidly bruising closed. "What happened?" she asked stiffly as she registered the strangers, her anxiety only evident to Chakotay who tried his best to smile reassuringly.

"We got into a scuffle of sorts…" He muttered before indicating Tuvok and Vendera, "These two got us out of it and are joining us. Kurt, Tuvok, this is Seven and our Chief Engineer, B'Elanna Torres…"

Seven bluntly ignored these introductions as she picked up on a detail of his words. "What do you mean "us"? You were alone…" At that moment she saw Seska, her lips parting in shock before setting in a grim line of disbelieving rage. "_Seska_?"

"You followed him?" B'Elanna cut in incredulously, staring at Seska. "What the _hell _were you thinking? You could've gotten Chakotay killed, you could've gotten us _all _killed…"

"B'Elanna, please listen…" Seska began softly.

"I believe you have forfeited your right to speak." Seven declared icily, her expression veering towards murderous as she approached the Bajoran.

Seeing that Seven looked ready to plunge her assimilation tubules straight into Seska's throat without a second thought, Chakotay decided to cool the situation down. "She made a very serious mistake." He agreed, looking between the three women in warning as he continued, "I am the commander of this group and I'm the one who's going to deal with this, understood?" B'Elanna nodded reluctantly, her hot burst of temper cooling somewhat as she saw Seska's battered face and sensed Chakotay's disapproval. Chakotay sighed as he saw her gesture, "Good. Go and move those plasma torpedoes out of here."

B'Elanna obediently moved towards the hold at the back of the shuttle but Seven remained where she was between Chakotay and Seska. Chakotay gripped her shoulder briefly but kept his tone uncompromising, "Go and help her Seven, that's an order."

Seven jerked angrily away from him. "Yes, _sir_." She retorted bitingly and stalked off into the hold after B'Elanna.

Chakotay rubbed his throbbing temple before looking at Vendera and Tuvok apologetically, "It's not normally this temperamental around here."

Tuvok raised an single eyebrow. "I did not assume so."

Chakotay bit back a snort and turned to Seska. "Take our new crewmembers to Sickbay please." He requested in a neutral tone as he noted the injures all four of them had managed to notch up.

"What about you?" she asked in nervous concern.

Chakotay shrugged, "I need to sort this out." She nodded without another word and stumblingly led Vendera and Tuvok out of the shuttle as Chakotay headed back to the hold. "Did you get everything else B'Elanna?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it was going like clockwork until…"

"They probably would've made things difficult for me anyway." Chakotay told her tiredly.

B'Elanna shrugged noncommittally as she saw Seven flinch at his words. "Maybe." She admitted before leaving the shuttle to take a sample of the technology to Engineering.

Chakotay slowly made his way towards Seven, who was trying to occupy herself scanning the torpedoes repeatedly. "Seven…"

She interrupted him with a sharp sigh as her hand closed around the transporter beacon attached to the crate. "_You _were supposed to use this yourself."

"We need those torpedoes…" He reminded her gently.

"I could build torpedoes out of what you'd already procured!" Seven snapped in frustration, "You shouldn't have taken that risk…"

"Well I did and it was my decision. Besides I couldn't leave Seska there…"

Seven had to bite her tongue to stop a retort to the contrary from leaving her mouth. "She should be removed from this crew immediately. Her decision to ignore orders endangered the entire crew, not to mention you."

"You're a little quick to jump to conclusions, I haven't even heard her explanation yet." Chakotay replied, "Don't worry, I won't let her disobey orders again, she'll be punished…"

"She disobeyed you in the first place…" Seven muttered doubtfully.

Chakotay began to feel his frustration build as she needled his own insecurities. "Seven, I am in command of this crew. Both you and Seska should know that. You at least should give her the benefit of the doubt, considering how many times you've pushed my orders to the limit and beyond…"

Hurt filled Seven's pale features. "_I've _neverknowingly endangered your life!" she exclaimed hotly, "No reason she can produce will fully explain that!" When his only reply was an exasperated frown she turned on her heel and left the shuttle without another word.

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling Seska?" Chakotay asked carefully as he entered Sickbay some time later.<p>

She blanched in surprise at the sight of him, then smiled sheepishly. "Better. It really is amazing how much a dermal regeneration can do." She smiled at his fully healed face, "As you've found out."

"Yeah." Chakotay agreed quietly as he reached her biobed, staring at her intensely. "_Why_ did you do it? What made you put us both at risk like that?" he asked heatedly.

Her gaze dipped downwards, almost shyly but not quite, before she met his gaze fully and unapologetically. "Because I care about you…deeply." She murmured thickly, "I just couldn't _stand_ the thought of you being alone down there. I intended to just watch you from afar, help you." She whispered, her voice breaking, "But they found me so soon, didn't listen when I told them I _wasn't _spying…" A sob caught in her throat.

Chakotay struggled to free his attention from her captivating voice. "Don't do it again. Not for me or anyone, you have to understand that everything has to be done for the good of the group out here."

"I know." Seska whispered firmly before looking up at him with huge tears dripping from her eyes. "I would do again though Chakotay. I _can't _lose someone else I care about…"

Chakotay studied her face intently, searching for meaning. Seska always managed to knock him off balance! "It's good to care but…" He was cut off by the sudden demanding pressure of his lips on hers.

She, not he, was the one to pull away. "Yes, it's good to care isn't it?"

Chakotay ran a sweaty palm over his suddenly flushed face. "Don't Seska, we'll just regret…" She pressed herself against him and emotion took over. He brought his face down to her for a deeper kiss, let her arms coil around his neck.

"Do you regret it?" she teased huskily as they broke away for air.

"Not yet…" He admitted breathlessly before she kissed him again.

* * *

><p>Seven walked tentatively towards the Valjean's small Sickbay, her thoughts and emotions whirling around her brain disconcertingly. She forced herself to pause and take a deep breath. She'd made a mistake in losing her temper with Chakotay, she'd overreacted and he deserved an apology. Seska was irrelevant to that. With that decision freshly made she reached Sickbay's open doorway, a choked gasp leaving her throat as she saw the scene inside. A painful lump choked her inexplicably and she felt her vision blur, obscuring the sight of Chakotay and Seska, but not enough. Unthinkingly, she turned and fled.<p>

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D This chapter was a difficult one to write, mainly because I hate Seska as much as anyone (I really do, I promise!).**


	25. Protecting Secrets

**A/n: I know some of my other fics are probably due an update but I got such good feedback yesterday for this story (Thanks everyone!) that I decided to write more! **

Logan Pullman's lips released a relaxed whistle as he walked towards Sickbay at a leisurely pace, seeking out Chakotay for orders on a new heading. The cheery tune died abruptly in his throat however as he saw a lone figure in his path, sitting heavily on the floor with her back pressed tight against the bulkhead and her fine arms wrapped loosely around her visibly trembling legs. He froze and peered at her, more out of shock before concern took over. He'd never seen her like this, not during or after any of the Valjean's narrow escapes… What the hell had happened? "Seven?" He asked tentatively as he walked cautiously to her side, "Seven, are you all right?" She didn't respond, her pale blue eyes not even flickering in acknowledgement of his existence as they stared blankly ahead. He was down on his knees beside her before he could mull the wisdom of that decision, even closing his hand over her human one, which was as cold as ice. Gently, he squeezed it. "What's the matter honey?" He felt his cheeks redden slightly as the term of endearment slipped off his tongue but quickly convinced himself that the term was pretty standard in his North Carolina hometown, in this situation anyway.

It seemed to get through to her somehow through. She jumped as she became aware of his words and the warm, pleasant pressure of his hand on hers. She was surprised as the instinctive urge to pull away faded to nothing and awkwardly forced a reply as she met his disarmingly intense eyes. "It is nothing of great importance Mr Pullman." She muttered in embarrassment, standing up in one graceful movement, although he kept hold of her hand as his brows furrowed doubtfully.

"It's Logan to you, remember?" he teased lightly before his tone became serious again. "Seven, you don't have to tell me but I _know _there's something, okay?" He watched her gaze flicker quickly to Sickbay's doors and fought the urge to wince as he made a guess. "Are you upset about what happened on the planet? I heard that Seska got Chakotay in a lot of trouble…" Seven's stifled sigh quickly confirmed that theory and he couldn't help but sigh himself. "I'm sure he'll give her whatever punishment he deems necessary, he's good at that, with me anyway…"

Seven's still slightly glazed gaze suddenly shot downward, her lips curling in as she set her jaw. "I wouldn't call what he did with her a punishment." She replied tersely, pulling her hand away from his sharply.

Pullman frowned at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Her whole body stiffened, her head once again lifted aloft so that she reached her full height, she was barely shorter than he was. "It is irrelevant." She remarked coolly, obviously wishing to end the conversion as she turned to walk away. "I apologise for obstructing your route." She murmured, embarrassment now seeping into her tone.

Pullman made a rapid decision, reluctant to leave her alone. "It was you I was looking for actually." He lied hurriedly, "I've been having a problem with the comm.'s controls, will you come and take a look for me?"

Relief diffused Seven's features. "Of course." She answered smoothly, letting him fall into step with her before she whispered quietly under her breath, "Thank you Logan."

* * *

><p>Tuvok estimated that it was 34 and a half hours after his arrival before he was summoned to speak to their leader, Chakotay, alone. This was an illogically long period of time, but he supposed that by assisting the mission the day before he'd already won some valuable trust. He gave the door a single, strong tap and Chakotay's voice echoed through it immediately. "Come in Mr Tuvok."<p>

He entered the room to find the human pacing the room with the PADD he recognised as his own fabricated credentials in his hand. Well, they weren't totally fabricated, in fact barely at all. He possessed all the mentioned skills and more, the fact that he'd had acquired most of them through Starfleet was the only thing omitted. "You wished to see me Commander?"

Chakotay smiled at the Vulcan's stoic face warmly. He wasn't one to be put off by a standoffish manner and he suspected that Tuvok's coolness hid just as much intelligence and foresight as Seven's did. He certainly needed more of that. The memory of Seska's tantrum the night before fluttered briefly through his mind before he shut it out with a sigh. "Yes, I do Tuvok. I've been looking over what you've written about yourself and its very impressive." He looked at the Vulcan levelly, "Courageous even, I don't think many Vulcans would consider taking the stance you have."

"No, it is most likely not." Tuvok answered truthfully, "They believe avoiding conflict is the most logical path, but I believe that these unresolved problems with the Cardassians are certain to cause such conflict on a wide scale. They are victims of short-sightedness."

"I couldn't agree more." Chakotay said heavily with a grim sigh, thinking of all the deaths on Dorvan V that could've been prevented if the Federation had intervened then. "I've decided to put you on Tactical duty, since that seems to be your forte." He took a deep breath, "You'll be working alongside Seven of Nine, she's been doing it almost singlehandedly but…" He cracked a small smile, "I'm pretty sure you'll get along."

Tuvok felt his eyebrows rise despite himself. "She is the Borg?"

Chakotay's eyes hardened defensively. "She _was_ Borg." He corrected in a sharp tone of warning, although he sensed curiously rather that judgement in the Vulcan's deceptively neutral tone. "Look…" He leaned tiredly over his desks, "Seven is a vital member of this crew, I've known her for her entire life…as an individual anyway." He normally didn't explain Seven's past to new crewmembers, or any crewmembers in fact, but something in Tuvok's unflinching gaze told him to confide in him. "She won't hurt you; she's never even assimilated anyone as far as I understand it. A Cube crashed on my home planet, over five years ago now, and her maturation chamber spat her out as a fifteen year old drone…" He swallowed hard as he remembered those early traumatic days.

Tuvok found that he couldn't completely suppress his shock at this information. "You did not report her presence to the Federation?"

Chakotay bit his lip guiltily, "I wanted to…once. My people, my father, believed that it was in her best interests to be protected by us. They believed the Federation would use her for their own means." He shot Tuvok a pained look, "Given what they did to their own colonists, I think they were right, don't you?" He said quietly.

"Yes." Tuvok replied in the same tone. "Do not worry; I hold no judgements against the girl. It would be illogical to blame the actions of a whole Collective on one individual."

Chakotay heaved a sigh of relief, his whole body relaxing until Tuvok could see how young he truly was behind the mature mask of command. "I wish more people thought like you, if they did I'd get her out of here in a heartbeat."

* * *

><p>Seven distractedly lifted her head from her console as she heard the doors open, but who entered caught her full attention. "Mr Tuvok." She greeted calmly, veiling her surprise.<p>

"The Commander has assigned me to Tactical." Tuvok informed her simply, moving forward to inspect his new workstation.

"Yes, I requested that he do so." Seven said, "I have found that the Vulcan sense of logical is particularly useful in tense situations where tactics are paramount to survival."

Tuvok nodded slowly. "The Collective found that." He stated, rephrasing her words.

Seven didn't flinch; it was actually refreshing for someone to be upfront. "Yes." She confirmed, pausing for a few seconds before she cocked her head at him quizzically. "It strikes me as highly illogical to join the Maquis."

"Yes…" Tuvok conceded, "But I can assure you that my reasons are logical." He studied her metal scarred face intently, "It also seems counterintuitive for a former Borg to indulge in a vendetta against the Cardassians."

Seven gave him an almost amused look, "You are correct." She confirmed bluntly, "The Collective would not approve of my actions, but this crew is my Collective now."

Tuvok silently debated whether or not to press for more information; soon he decided to take a calculated risk. "If the people of Dorvan V had not held you back the Federation would be your Collective."

Seven's expression darkened. She suddenly changed from a girl much younger than even his own daughter, barely an adult even by human standards, to someone who appeared as ancient and knowing as T'Pau herself. "No." She concluded heavily, her gaze becoming distant, "The Federation does not think the Collective traces its deactivated drones but we…they do. I have no desire to be an object of study, of dissection."

* * *

><p>"Tuvok?" Captain Kathryn Janeway leaned anxiously over the handheld visual comm. device that linked her to her Security Officer. "Are you still there?"<p>

The solidly handsome features of his became clear on the small screen. "I apologise Captain, the signal is disappointingly poor."

Janeway gave him a weak smile. "I'll be sure to complain to the Communications branch of Starfleet Intelligence for you."

"No need Captain." Tuvok replied, completely serious. "Do you have the data I transmitted?"

Janeway held up the relevant PADD up to the screen as evidence. "Right here, well done Mr Tuvok, this will be invaluable. Do you think your position is secure for the moment?"

"I'm fairly certain Captain. I believe I have gained the trust of the leader and his lieutenants."

"Good." Janeway enthused before glancing down at the PADD which showed an impossibly young Native American man, strikingly handsome and tattooed, in the Starfleet uniform he'd forsaken. "Are you sure this "Chakotay" person is the commander of the Valjean? He seems so young to control one of the Maquis' most important and seemingly effective crews…"

"Do not let his age deceive Captain; I have already been impressed by his leadership. I believe it is vital that I remain here."

"Don't worry Tuvok, I'm not about to pull you out just as we're getting somewhere." Janeway assured him quickly before she frowned again, "What about his crew? They must have some sort of an advantage to be able to escape us so completely at every turn…"

For a split second she saw indecisiveness, even anxiety, in Tuvok's expression but dismissed it as a figment of her imagination as he replied calmly, "The crewmembers appear to be average so far Captain."

**A/n: I'm not nearly as satisfied with this chapter as I was with yesterday's but I hope its okay. PLEASE REVIEW! :D If anyone has any ideas for an Easter themed one-shot I could write, please let me know.**


	26. New Year, Same Feelings

**A/n: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my new fic "A Raven's Ghost" last night. :D**

Chakotay looked the men and women he considered as the senior officers of the Valjean directly in the eye as he informed them with a heavy sigh, "We've been assigned another grocery run." Several groans echoed around the cramped Briefing Room. To his displeasure Seska's was particularly loud and he avoided her gaze as he continued, instead focusing in on the comfortingly stoic faces of Seven and Tuvok, "None of us should complain, taking supplies to the refugee camps is the most important task the Maquis has, they'd starve without us."

Logan Pullman had the grace to appear contrite, "We know that Chakotay, but the more we actually try to _fight _the Cardassians the more likely it is that those refugees can go home."

"I can't argue with that sentiment." Chakotay answered calmly as he watched the others nod in vigorous agreement, although Seven's response was muted. She'd privately advised him that if the Cardassians were ever forced from their newly acquired colonies they'd probably do their best to leave them uninhabitable. Chakotay didn't doubt her veracity, her Borg insights were generally depressingly accurate, but his brain skirted around the possibility, he and his crew needed hope. "But that doesn't mean we don't honour our duty to the refugees, understood?"

There was a guilty, resigned silence in the room for a moment before B'Elanna broke it in a business like tone, "What are we carrying and which route are we taking?"

Chakotay smiled briefly at her in gratitude. "We're taking food and clothing to the camp on Bothran III; they're in for a harsh winter out there."

"What about medical supplies?" Celes asked anxiously. Having spent most of her life being shunted from refugee camp to refugee camp on Bajor, she knew what would be prioritised by the displaced families.

"Not much this time." Chakotay replied, his voice thick with regret, "Only a couple of boxes of vaccinations, the dermal regenerators and such were redirected to Calos VI after that firebombing incident last month."

Even Seven couldn't hold back a grimace at the memory. The Cardassians had suspected the people of Calos VI of hiding several Maquis units in their homes and when they hadn't gotten the answers they'd wanted they'd strafe bombed several abandoned buildings to smoke out their foe, unfortunately the wind had let the fire spread to the planet's main town… She feared the smell of burning flesh would be scarred into her mind for life. "The flight plan for Bothran III means we will have to pass through the Terok Din checkpoint." She pointed out.

"Well, if I had to go through any Cardassian checkpoint that's the one I'd choose." Seska muttered with a sigh, "It's so quiet there the guards on duty are nearly always green conscripts. They'd probably turn a blind eye for a few good bottles of kanar." She snorted derisively.

Chakotay grinned wryly, "What do you think we're hiding our real cargo with? As far as the Cardassians are concerned we're a Bolian trade freighter heavy with vintage kanar and ripe Tarkealian sugar melons."

Chell glanced at Chakotay nervously, "Does this mean I have to play Captain again Chakotay?"

Chakotay nodded sympathetically, "You'll do fine."

Tuvok spoke up as Chell agreed to his role with a little more confidence. "Certainly, Terok Din is not the most heavily fortified of Cardassian installations, but it would be illogical and dangerous to let down our guard."

Chakotay looked over at the older man respectfully, his face serious. "Letting down our guard is the last thing we're going to do." He assured the Vulcan as his gaze skimmed over everyone else to confirm the sentiment. "Alright…" He started with a heavy sigh, "That's all for tonight, you're dismissed."

Celes took this as the cue to brighten up considerably, her naturally sunny nature returning to her as she exclaimed excitedly, "They're throwing a big party below decks for Terran New Year, why don't we all go? Danny Hodge promised me a dance!"

"It is not 2369 for two hours 33 minutes Celes." Seven reminded her friend, "It is still very much the "old year"."

Logan laughed warmly, green eyes sparkling at her in a way that caught Seven off guard. "That's all the more reason to party now, to celebrate the year that's about to end." He explained, peering at her beseechingly, "Come with us Seven, you'll have fun, I promise."

Seven glanced uncertainly up at Chakotay for reassurance, "I do not recall you defining the parties on Dorvan V as "fun" Chakotay…" She remarked with an uneasy frown.

Chakotay chuckled wryly, "That's because Dad's idea of a "party" was a good old game of cards or a catching up session with friends." He reminded her, smiling fondly at the memory, "Remember that there weren't many people our age on Dorvan, this will be very different." He smiled at her fondly as her brow creased, he'd forgotten for a moment she was never enamoured with the idea of anything "different", but he truly did want her to mix more with the crew. His father perhaps hadn't done Seven a favour by shielding her from parties and the like after his own memorable going away party. Had that really been just over four years ago? "Go on…" He prodded her gently on the back to urge her forward. "Go and enjoy yourself."

Seven lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly, "And what about your enjoyment Chakotay?"

Seska pounced on this before Chakotay could reply, slinking up to him. "Yes Chakotay, what about you?" she queried, gazing up at him coquettishly, "Shouldn't you have a little fun too before we start this boring old supply run?" she teased, her voice decidedly husky.

Chakotay bristled a little despite at the blasé way she dismissed their next mission, but soon forgot the slight as he saw his crew's faces light up at the idea, and Seska was right, when was the last time he'd completely relaxed? "Okay, if you think it's good for crew morale…" He replied in the same tone.

"Oh, definitely." Seska concluded with a kittenish smile as she pulled his arm around her waist possessively and they sauntered off after the others.

Seven stayed where she was, feeling lost, until that is Logan offered her his arm. "Let's go, huh?" he suggested gently, sighing internally when her eyes took a few seconds to more away from Chakotay's disappearing back to look at him.

Remembering herself, she shakily looped her arm through his, although she was unsure why he thought she suddenly needed his assistance to walk. "Proceed." She mumbled quietly.

* * *

><p>Seven decided, as she stood in the poorly lit Cargo Bay that had been designated the main dance floor, that she didn't like New Year's parties at all, or at least not this one. The incessant pounding beat of sounds she refused to class as music made her ears ring and her head throb unpleasantly. The dancing was completely unregulated; some of the moves her crewmates were pulling made her grimace at the unnaturalness of the positions. So, she stood almost out of sight, gratefully alone for once, but her eyes still involuntarily sought out Chakotay in the crowd and with him was Seska as always. Tonight she was flaunting herself even more than usual, her body pinned to Chakotay as they danced slowly. With her enhanced Borg senses, Seven could smell the synthehol on the Bajoran's breath despite standing more than a metre away and her nose wrinkled perceptively in disgust.<p>

B'Elanna was just leaving the dance floor when she saw Seska dragging Chakotay out of the room by the collar, her intent obvious. Her ears pricked as she heard Seven give a tiny sigh and the half Klingon couldn't help but pass comment to the other woman, "Jealousy isn't a good emotion to learn you know."

Seven's eyebrows shot up incredulously, "Jealousy?" she echoed in bemusement, "I…I have no idea what you could be referring to. Jealousy is a deplorable emotion and ultimately one of the most irrelevant!" She bit her lip as she realised that the retort had more heat in it than she'd intended, although she couldn't fully define why.

B'Elanna's lips twitched into a knowing smirk, although for a brief second pity flashed through her dark eyes as she regarded the under socialised girl who obviously couldn't interpret her own feelings, let alone anyone else's. "Okay, just keep on telling yourself that." She muttered before resuming her path to the drinks table.

Seven suddenly felt cold and inexplicably anxious. Despite her initial resolve to ignore it, the exchange disturbed her deeply. Jealousy? That didn't exist for the Borg and although she was no longer in the Collective the thought of indulging in such a feeling upset her. No, B'Elanna's comment was irrelevant…

"Seven?" Logan's voice and the soft touch of his hand on her shoulder interrupted this uncontrollable train of thought for a moment, "Would you like to dance with me?"

Seven flushed as she stared out at the dance floor apprehensively, "I'd rather not, I've never…" She swallowed hard, ashamed of admitting a gap in her knowledge.

Logan didn't seem perturbed by it though, in fact he was now staring into her troubled face with concern. "Look, I've actually had enough for the night and you look pretty done in. Do you want an escort through this…" He raised an eyebrow at the crowd of partygoers, "…melee to your quarters?"

Seven nodded quickly, relief flooding her. "I would appreciate that."

* * *

><p>Logan Pullman was an observant man, particularly where Seven of Nine was concerned, and so he couldn't fail to notice that her eyes were tight with tension as they reached the doorway to her quarters together and her eyes swept over the doorways to Chakotay's quarters and Seska's, both just down the hall. She shook her head as if to clear it as she stepped inside her room, before awkwardly gesturing for him to follow her in, "I believe it is courteous to invite friends to your quarters, is it not?" she asked him uneasily as he paused.<p>

"You believe right." He assured her pleasantly as he stepped in, "Thanks."

"Yes…" Seven agreed before trailing off awkwardly, averting her gaze in that way Logan found adorable.

"Hey…" He said suddenly, looking up at the clock, "It's after midnight. Happy New Year, Seven."

"Oh…" Seven glanced up at him distractedly, "Happy New…" She was cut off by the sudden pressure of his lips to hers.

**A/n: Ah, a cliffy of sorts, but don't worry. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	27. I Hate That I Love

**A/n: Thanks to battlevalkyrie for completing "Timeline" and to lisac1965 for updating "Finding One's Heart". :D I hope you both like this chapter as much as I did yours.**

Seska pulled Chakotay's lips down to hers before they were fully in the doorway of her quarters and while not really resisting her Chakotay broke away until they could no longer be seen by prying eyes. "Are you...ashamed to be with me tonight Mr Commander?" Seska pouted with a strong slur in her voice.

Chakotay frowned, hurt by the misunderstanding. "You know that's not it Seska." He answered firmly, "I just prefer privacy, that's all."

Seska placed a hand on his chest, "Oh, I assure you, privacy is overrated where I'm concerned." She purred as she gave him a light push back onto the sole chair in her room and then promptly straddled his lap, a leg on each side. They engaged in some heavy kissing for a few minutes before Seska muttered peevishly against his neck, "Are we really going to waste our time on that run to Bothran III?"

Chakotay pulled back from her, his eyes narrowing. "Yes, we are." He informed her in a cool, pointed tone, "The decision's been made."

Seska paused in her path of kisses down his throat for a second, realising she'd taken a misstep. Despite this, she couldn't hold back a dramatic sigh as she accepted his answer, "Well what's our plan?" A drunken hiccup shook her frame, "I think Terok Din should be easy…"

Chakotay looked down at her levelly as he held her shoulders to steady her swaying body. "You're too drunk to be discussing strategy right now."

"Am not!" She retorted hotly, shifting her body even further onto his lap as she did so, "I'll have you know I come up with some of my best plans when I'm…" Her hiccups became a belch, "…a little tipsy."

Chakotay sighed to himself, trying to ignore her suggestive positioning. Sometimes it was difficult to have a serious conversation with Seska, she teased and made light of everything, it often helped him to unwind but in regards to Maquis action it deeply irritated him. Making a quick decision, he lifted Seska up as he stood and then sat her back down where he'd just been. "You're _more _than a little tipsy." He told her tiredly as he gave her a brief kiss on the mouth, the alcohol on her breath now repelling him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Prophets!" Seska spat out, "You should take _advantage_ of a girl every so often. You're so damned straight laced and _predictable_!"

Chakotay turned away from her to hide his wince as her words hit home much harder than he'd hoped. He bit back a bitter retort about mean drunks and instead took his leave.

* * *

><p>At first, the sensation of Logan's lips on hers meant that Seven's brain was overwhelmed with surprise. Then, for a fraction of a second or so, the hot spark of temptation heated her body only to be utterly smothered by the mental images behind her closed eyelids. She thought of that night, long before, by the cave wearing that blue party dress when she'd mistakenly kissed Chakotay and yet strangely hadn't regretted the error at all. This situation somehow elicited the reverse reaction in her. It was wrong, an error, a mistake. She couldn't compute what was happening and therefore was paralysed about what she should do. Logan saved her from the dilemma, which had in reality only lasted a matter of seconds, by pulling away himself, his impulse killed by her lack of response. So, she found herself staring into his saddened, pleading eyes in an even more heightened state of confusion. "Why…did you do that?" she mumbled out bluntly.<p>

Logan shrugged, guilt piercing his heart when he heard the almost tearful bemusement in her voice that he'd never expected to hear from such a reserved person. "New Years tradition." He muttered lamely by way of explanation while peering into her face. It was deeply flushed, but this time the colour offered no extra beauty to her pale features. A solitary tear had escaped her human eye and left a sorrowful trail streaked out on her red cheek. He sighed as realisation hit him, his fists clenching involuntarily in frustration. "You really are in love with him aren't you?" he asked softly, pain evident in his tone.

Seven flinched visibly, her eyes widening and a gasp of air leaving her as if she'd been kicked in the chest. "It is…irrelevant." She finally managed to force out with a degree of composure.

Logan shot her an angry look, "I guarantee you he won't think that." He said through gritted teeth.

Seven's glassy gaze hardened, her expression schooling itself back into near impassiveness. "_He _loves _her_." She reminded him, her tone cold and resigned.

Logan gave a loud and derisive snort, "He'll soon get over his fancy for Seska, or else she'll get bored with him." He saw Seven's brows furrow in offended disbelief, obviously unable to imagine how anyone could get _bored_ with Chakotay."It'll happen." He assured her sharply when she shook her head, cupping her chin with his hand for a moment, "And if it doesn't, I'll make sure you forget about him." He barely gave Seven enough time to hear, let alone absorb, his words before letting her go, turning on his heel and abruptly leaving her quarters.

Seven felt something inside her break as he left, whatever Borg wall she'd built around that loving part of herself began to crumble and collapse at that moment, although she knew even as her body shook with suppressed sobs that it would need to be built back up somewhat if she were to maintain the status quo. When she eventually felt able to move from where Logan had left her, she robotically scrubbed her face until the skin was peeling but no sign of tears remained. She hated both Logan and Chakotay at that moment, one for making her aware of these irresponsible feelings and the other for being the root of them, and yet guilt towards them was mixed in also. Who was she to think herself worthy of any emotion? After a while it was all she could do to retreat to her makeshift regeneration alcove. She should be Borg, and then she wouldn't have brought this suffering on herself.

* * *

><p>Chakotay stopped sharply in his tracks in the hallway as he spotted Logan Pullman hurriedly leaving Seven's room. He made a snap judgement, his blood instantly boiling as he met the other man's eyes. As much as he tried to keep up a good working relationship with the pilot, it was far from friendship. He'd seen him at his most arrogant and overconfident in the past and he'd been known as chasing every woman within sight on other ships. The typical playboy. So he'd always treated Pullman's blossoming friendship with Seven with more than a little distrust, seeing this pushed it into the unacceptable. "What do you think you're doing in Seven's quarters?" he questioned brusquely, his body coiling with tension when Pullman regarded him with distaste.<p>

"She invited me in." Logan replied icily. He'd already forgiven Seven for tonight's hurt, he even felt guilty for coming on to her so strongly before she was ready, but he felt he was allowed a powerful dislike for Chakotay. "You have a problem with that?"

Chakotay saw red, instantly pinning Logan to the bulkhead and glaring down at him with such a vicious protective glare that Logan couldn't restrain a wince. "If you so much as _think_ of hurting her…" His voice was so low the words sounded like a growl, "I'll kick you off this ship so fast you'll have a warp trail behind you."

Logan found that brittle laughter was bubbling in his chest as the irony of this threat and quickly shrugged off Chakotay's hold as he muttered loudly, "I'd say you're the pot calling the kettle black, _sir_." He answered pointedly before stalking off down the hall.

Chakotay's mouth fell open in disbelief as he stared at Logan's retreating figure. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he shouted angrily down the hall, getting no response.

**A/n: I'm worried about this chapter, is it okay? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	28. Evasive Action

Seska's face was set in a deep scowl as she glanced up from the unsatisfying sensor readings on her console to be met with the still, lonely space shown by the Valjean's viewscreen, no ship in sight. "Face it, he's not coming." She muttered to Chakotay under his breath, "If we're going through with this, let's just head for Bothran III at full speed. We'll get past the station ourselves without help from that _collaborator_…" She spat out the last word in disgust, making several of the other Bridge crew exchange worried looks and shift uncomfortably.

Chakotay frowned at Seska in warning, too aware of where they were to rebuke her verbally, and instead addressing everyone. "Dalton is a little late, but that doesn't make him a collaborator. Unlike the vast majority of people who trade with the Cardassians he's _helping_ us at great personal risk to himself. If we didn't have him vouching for our validity as "Bolian traders" we'd never be able to get within 5 light-years of the station, let alone to our colonists stranded beyond it, understood?" There were several murmurs of assent that gave him a moment of relief. If he were honest with himself, he was also getting antsy about the smuggler's failure to appear but it wouldn't do for his crew to know that. Distractedly, he turned to the reliably composed Seven of Nine and asked quietly, "Have the recommendations Dalton made been put into action."

Seven gave a short nod, as efficient with her movements as she was with everything. "Yes, and improved upon. Any scan of this vessel will show a crew of Bolians with a cargo of Andorian ale and Dukasi crystals…"

"Rather than a motley band of Maquis laden down with medicine and rations?" Chakotay finished with a small, hopeful, smile.

"Precisely." Seven answered confidently, "I also reconfigured our sensors, with the help of Mr Tuvok…" She caught the Vulcan's impassive eyes gave him an appreciative nod which Chakotay mirrored, "…to be able to register the sensor net around the station in its entirety."

Chakotay's mouth widened into a pleased grin, "Then we'll be able to tell more confidently when we're out of range and can change course to Bothran III. Well done you two."

"Your thanks will only be necessary if the mission is successful Commander." Tuvok replied calmly.

B'Elanna's chuckle could be heard as she walked onto the Bridge. "Typical Vulcan modesty." She remarked wryly as she reached Chakotay, "Seven's right, if all these modifications work, the only way the Cardassians will know about our real cargo is if they come on this ship and see it with their own eyes."

"Well, we'll just have to make sure they don't do that won't we? According to our intelligence boarding trade ships isn't common practice." Chakotay reassured her.

Seska snorted, "Of course not! How else are the poor drafted soldiers supposed to get their non-regulation comforts on the black market?"

A bitter laugh at the Cardassians' hypocrisy, smuggling in strong alcohol and narcotics while those around them were starving, echoed hollowly around the Bridge but B'Elanna's mind soon focused again on the task at hand. "Projecting all those false readings drains our energy though; we'll only be able to achieve a max speed of warp three while we're in range of Cardassians."

Chakotay tried to smother his unease and put a brave face on such a serious curtail on their capacity to run, "You think you can handle that Pullman?" he asked the pilot seriously. Despite their recent friction, Chakotay now didn't regret putting Pullman at the flight controls for this mission; he was by far the best pilot they had.

"Even if the Cardassians do decide to give us a little trouble, we should be able to shake them off at that speed with some weapons cover." Pullman answered firmly, turning in his chair not to meet Chakotay's gaze but to smile at Seven, "If these modifications work, we probably won't need to go above half-impulse at the station, don't worry."

As Seven awkwardly averted her gaze from Logan, Chakotay felt his mood darken. The pilot had laid off in his outright pursuit of Seven, but the thought of his last conversation about her still perplexed and irritated him. He'd even tried to draw her out about it, to see if he'd upset her inadvertently as Pullman seemed to claim, but she'd sharply denied that was the case. "Good." He replied tersely, "What about…"

Celes cleared her throat nervously to interrupt, sensing a simmering tension in the air. "Captain Dalton has arrived sir, he's hailing us."

"Put him through." Chakotay ordered hastily.

The weathered face of a human male, perhaps in his late forties, filled almost the entire viewscreen. His scowl put Seska's to shame. "So, you're still here. Makes you a step up on the last lot…"

"Don't push it, you collaborating piece of…" Seska began to snarl.

Dalton's onyx eyes glinted menacingly, "If I were a true collaborator missy, the self-righteous hot air coming out of your ass would be blowing around a Cardassian prison cell right now." Seska's mouth dropped open in outrage at the crude comment, causing Dalton to smirk smugly before turning his attention to Chakotay. "You're keen, if you waited this long for me to show up." He commented gruffly. "You'll need to be, I don't work with jokers. I'm putting my life on line for this."

"We're serious Captain." Chakotay assured him in the unruffled yet steely tone he'd learned unconsciously during his time in command.

The older man chuckled, obviously seeing more to warm to in Chakotay than in Seska. "I'm no Captain, just Dalton will do. Starfleet Academy doesn't teach what I know."

Chakotay gave him a wary but honest smile, "I'm sure."

Dalton's attention had moved away from small talk however, "Beam me aboard your ship and I'll see if you've followed through with my plan to keep you rebels alive."

* * *

><p>Dalton grunted as he stepped back from the crates in the Valjean's cargo bay that he'd been studying intently with his tricorder. "It will do."<p>

Chakotay could see his eyes roving over the sensor disruptor devices Seven and Tuvok had lined the bay with, but after less than ten minutes in Dalton's company he knew to humour his gruff manner of understatement. "That's good to hear." He replied pleasantly.

Seven stared at the man through narrowed eyes. "It's actually a fundamental improvement on your designs." She contradicted coolly.

Dalton's eyebrows shot up in amusement, his eyes glittering as he took Seven in. "So, this is all your work Miss Borg?" To Seven's surprise, he flashed her a caffeine stained grin, "I should've known those rumours were true, who would make up a story about a lost cyborg?"

As was her habit, Seven answered his rhetorical question without the blink of eyelid. "Only someone disturbed and untrustworthy."

Dalton laughed and patted her shoulder in an overly familiar manner and Chakotay stiffened in unease despite himself. "Well, if I knew you can build things like that from scratch I would've freed you myself, although I'm sure you prefer your young Maquis commander." If he noticed the faint blushes which radiated over both Seven and Chakotay's carefully controlled faces he ignored them. "Anyway, I think I'll need your help on the station."

"On the station?" Chakotay echoed blankly, "None of us are leaving this ship!"

Dalton sighed irritably, "You weren't debriefed very thoroughly about Cardassian procedure were you? All ships dock, the Gul must have his cut after all. The internal sensors on the station will need to be tricked too. I consider myself a dab hand, but it would certainly go quicker with your drone's assistance."

"No way…" Chakotay ground out, his anger building.

"Well then, you'll be arrested on the station." Dalton informed him nonchalantly.

Seven stepped firmly between the two men and met Dalton's gaze. "I would prefer if Mr Tuvok accompanied us, his expertise will be of great assistance."

Chakotay opened his mouth to object but Dalton got in first, glancing at Tuvok over Seven's shoulder, "Sure, a Borg _and_ a Vulcan can only help things along."

"Good, we are in agreement." Seven answered stoically, studiously avoiding Chakotay's exasperated gaze as she moved away on the pretence of checking the function of the disruptors.

"Are you certain you should allow this plan of action to go ahead Commander?" Tuvok asked thoughtfully by Chakotay's ear.

Chakotay heaved a heavy, frustrated sigh. "I can't see a way around it right now." He admitted, "You're definitely going with her. Just because I know we need him doesn't mean I trust him."

**A/n: I did intend for this chapter to be longer, but it's too hot to be typing for long! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter anyway. PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	29. The Merits of Protection

**A/n: I'm sorry for the break in updates since Sunday, it was unintended I promise! My internet connection has been extremely temperamental over the past few days but I think it's all sorted out now. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! :)**

"I'm still not happy with the idea of you going Seven…" Chakotay muttered emphatically under his breath, gripping her arm worriedly as they stood in the Valjean's tiny transporter room.

Seven's gaze was level and uncompromising as she replied, "My going to the station is not an _idea_ Chakotay, I must go."

Chakotay thought he heard a chuckle from where Dalton stood with B'Elanna, who would control the transport over to his own vessel before the group disembarked for the station on one of his shuttles. He didn't see any humour in this situation at all and seeing Seven's determination made him defensive. "Couldn't you just teach Tuvok how to trick the station's sensors?" he asked sharply before lowering his voice to a harsh whisper so as to avoid Dalton's earshot, "For Spirits' sake, if Dalton's been able to do it before then surely…"

A frown of exasperation creased Seven's features as she shrugged off his restraining hand, "I do not doubt Mr Tuvok's capacity to learn my methods, but it would still take more time than we currently possess for me to instruct him. I can do the task within five minutes." Her face relaxed slightly as she watched a reluctant acceptance begin to cross over his face. "Besides, I doubt you wish to be any more reliant on Mr Dalton than we already are." She pointed out for good measure.

Chakotay sighed irritably as he ran a hand through his hair, "Alright, fine, but don't do anything rash for the sake of efficiency…"

"Don't worry Chakotay, I've never been much into efficiency myself." Dalton called over loudly, "Although your Borg might just be able to convert me." He added with a wink at Seven, who nodded uneasily even as she unconsciously took a step back towards Chakotay.

"We must depart now if we are to complete the arrangements before the disguised Valjean is scheduled to dock at the station." Tuvok interrupted calmly, his logic dictating that it was time to bring the conversation back to the task at hand.

Dalton stepped obligingly onto the transporter pad, rubbing his hands together impatiently. "The Vulcan is right of course." He conceded gruffly, deciding to stop teasing the Maquis and his Borg girl, for now at least. "Chop, chop!" he said sarcastically as a way of ushering his new ward over.

Seven had barely shot Chakotay a bemused glace before he answered her unspoken question, "Just a saying hon." He murmured knowingly, "Go on." He added as she paused. With that encouragement she stepped onto the transporter pad with a calm ease, not even flinching in anticipation as she beamed away with Tuvok at her side. Chakotay however, continued to look pensive, something Seska noticed with disquiet from where she stood with B'Elanna.

The Bajoran couldn't help but put her two cents in, leaving the console to slink over to Chakotay's side. "You don't have to be so overprotective of her you know." She told him softly, "I'm sure as a Borg she can take care of herself."

Chakotay sighed distractedly, "I know, I just…" He stopped, frowning at her, when had Seska ever shown much concern for Seven? "Seven's not a Borg anymore, I've told you that."

Seska backed off, her expression appeasing as she reassuringly rubbed his arm, "I know, but…" She pursed her lips, "Look, I know she was your father's pet project…" She froze as she felt him stiffen, then bravely continued, "You're proud of how far you've managed to rehabilitate her, I realise that, but that doesn't mean that you're responsible for her." Her tone was convincing as she said quietly, "There's been some talk among the crew, they resent how you tend to coddle her, she rarely leaves the ship, gets to pick and choose what she does…"

"Seven obeys my orders just like everyone else!" Chakotay cut in defensively, "I just let her use her skills, that's all. As for never leaving the ship, you know that if the Cardassians, or even the Federation, saw her then…"

"I'm not saying we throw her to the wolves Chakotay." Seska countered firmly, "I'm just saying back off, you need to protect the _entire_ crew, not just her."

Chakotay found himself mulling over her words despite himself, Seska certainly did have the ability to get under his skin at the most inconvenient of times. Did the crew really believe he favoured Seven over them? He hated to put anyone in danger, but he supposed that in all honesty he did consider Seven different from the others, he'd known her for her whole free life after all and she'd stood by him. Maybe that was what bothered him, that she'd followed him into this, joining the Maquis wouldn't have entered her pragmatic mind if he hadn't done so first, his guilt over that was a constant. Was it so bad to be protective of a girl, yes she was still a young girl, who he'd seen at her most naïve and vulnerable and who he didn't want to see sliding back? He exhaled heavily as he answered his own question, no, it wasn't wrong, but he needed to show his crew that all of their lives mattered just as much as the life of his childhood friend. Maybe Seven was right to get exasperated with him, he was always singling her out…"Am I really that overprotective of Seven B'Elanna?" he asked his engineer in exasperation.

B'Elanna shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to be drawn into this particular argument. "Maybe, but I don't think Seven minds, most of the time anyway." Seska shot a glare at the half-Klingon over Chakotay's shoulder, but B'Elanna, while not Seven's biggest fan, didn't like how Seska tended to manipulate Chakotay either, just smirked back at her in reply.

* * *

><p>"The main sensor control unit is in that far corner." Dalton instructed Seven and Tuvok as the three of them walked together through Terok Din's bustling main thoroughfare, the Promenade Deck. The Cardassians were so accustomed to Dalton's various comings and goings that none of them had given the two "Vulcans" he was escorting a second glance. Dressed in traditional Vulcan garb Dalton had somehow managed to rustle up from somewhere, which consisted not only of a floor length dress but also of an opulent, thick cloak with a low hanging hood, Seven blended in easily among the multi-species crowd, her implants invisible to those who gave her the usual cursory glances. Most thought her to be the typical Vulcan wife or daughter, cool and composed.<p>

"It is logical to suppose that Security will notice non-crewmembers accessing the station's systems." Tuvok warned doubtfully as he scanned the room.

Dalton shook his head, laughing brusquely as he pointed out an overflowing clothing stall standing near the sensor unit. "Nah, they're not that observant. For all they'll know, we're doing a little shopping before we leave."

Seven was sure she saw contempt and not a little disgust cross Tuvok's face as he took in Dalton's words and studied the security officers drifting around, at best they were slack and gossipy, at worst they were completely intoxicated. He had become impassive again however before she could comment and someone on the open deck above caught her eye, one Cardassian was certainly asserting his power, barking orders even while a scantily clad female member of Species 9653 was draped around him. "Who is that?"

Dalton briefly followed her gaze, but quickly looked away from the Cardassian nervously. "That particular lout is Gul Ishek, Commander of this station. Extreme violence isn't his only vice; he's a boon for every supplier of women in the quadrant, as well as very intoxicating substance known to him." He paused to pull Seven's hood tighter over her head, "I don't think Chakotay would approve of your curiosity Seven, he pays a soldier's yearly wage to have the most exotic women possible and you're certainly unique."

"Do not concern yourself, I do not intend to draw his attention in any way." Seven assured him as she reached the sensor unit, removing her gloves and handing them to Tuvok distractedly as she focused on reading the data at superhuman speed. Having decided what needed to be done, she gave Tuvok the signal. He stood in front of her as she plunged her assimilation tubules into the console and withdrew them again within seconds. "The Valjean will not be detected now." She confirmed with a small sigh of relief.

Dalton stared at her in shocked awe for a moment before reverting to his sardonic persona. "If you ever get bored helping those rebels, I'd take you as a smuggler any day…"His sentence cut off with a breathless yelp.

"_You're_ not going to be a smuggler when I'm finished with you!" An angry Andorian voice hissed in his ear, "Hand over the latinum you owe me and I might let your latest victims go…"

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm not sure about this chapter. I know that in canon Seska was B'Elanna's best friend of sorts, but just because I've kept her with Chakotay for now for dramatic purposes doesn't mean that B'Elanna needs to be stuck with her too does it? lol. **


	30. Fractures and Clean Breaks

**A/n: Thanks to MissSarahG1 for completing her C/7 fic "Natural Adaption" and starting its sequel "After the End". :)**

The irate Andorian's vice like grip tightened further around Dalton's throat as the human struggled fruitlessly. "Emar, how…nice to see you again." Dalton choked out hoarsely, "I was just on my way to see you about our wager…"

"Wager?" Seven echoed incredulously, shaking off her initial shock. "This is about gambling?"

"What else?" Emar the Andorian growled at her, twisting his fist into the soft muscle tissue surrounding Dalton's spine, causing him to groan as he tried to explain.

"Isn't my entire business based around gambling sweetheart?" He told Seven with a wry, but pained grin. "It's your own fault Emar. The Ferengi running that dabo table fleeced you twice as much as I did…"

Emar spat on the floor at the mention of said Ferengi before kicking Dalton's knees out from under him. "Well he's not here right now. You are and I need my money you pale faced swindler!"

Tuvok cast a furtive glance around them, quickly deciding that this low-rent brawl was drawing them too much attention. "How much does Dalton owe you Mr Emar?" he asked in a remarkably disinterested tone as he stepped smoothly forward.

Emar paused, evaluating Tuvok so slowly that Seven was aware of every tense hair that rose on her neck. "Three bars." He eventually grunted.

"I will provide you with fifteen slips of latinum if you release him now." Tuvok offered coolly.

"Are you crazed with Pon Farr Vulcan?" Emar asked with a bitter chuckle. "That's not even a third of what he owes me…"

Tuvok met his heated gaze with his own steely eyes. "If you decline my offer and kill him, you will get no latinum whatsoever. However, if you accept you will receive my fifteen slips. Logic dictates that acceptance is the better option."

Emar's eyes narrowed thoughtfully, "What do you want him for so much anyway?"

"We require him and are willing to compensate you. That is all that should be relevant to you." Seven answered icily, sensing that they were gaining the upper hand.

The Andorian seemed to consider that for a moment before extending a grubby hand out to Tuvok, "Well _compensate_ me then Vulcan."

Tuvok's brows lifted ever so slightly in a sign of distaste as he methodically counted the slips out onto Emar's hand. "Release him."

Closing his hand greedily around the golden pieces, Emar allowed Dalton to drop to the floor. "Until next time human." He laughed in satisfaction before retreating out of sight.

Dalton gave his saviours an apologetic shrug as he stood up and shook himself off. "Sorry about that, it happens very rarely, honest. I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Chakotay about that little mishap…"

"We won't, since unfortunately we _do _require you to guide us to Bothran III." Seven replied coldly, breathing a regretful sigh as they turned hurriedly back through the crowd in the direction of the shuttle.

"Seven is correct. Deception is logical under the circumstances." Tuvok agreed, though he didn't exactly sound happy about it."

"Well…" Dalton started with a heavy sigh of relief, trying to lighten the mood, "I never thought I'd see the day where I'd be happy with a Borg and a Vulcan backing me up, but you two have proved me wrong."

* * *

><p>Chakotay was waiting for them on the Valjean's Bridge when they returned, quickly moving his attention away from instructing Chell on how to play his Bolian freighter Captain role this time. "How did it go?" he asked, his tone brisk to hide his anxiety.<p>

"Primarily as anticipated." Tuvok answered as he returned to his post.

Chakotay raised his eyebrows. "Primarily? You took longer than we planned…"

"Yes, the modifications to the sensors systems were more…complex than I expected." Seven explained, "But they are complete now, our true nature and purpose should be concealed."

"She's right." B'Elanna confirmed, "They should be seeing exactly what we want them to see in their scans right now, a harmless trading vessel."

"Good, that's what I want to hear." Chakotay replied, "Pullman, remember to keep to a maximum of warp three until we're outside of the station's sensor net."

"I remember." Logan said distractedly, turning round to face Seven behind him, "You'll tell me when we're out of that won't you?" he asked her.

"Of course." Seven answered simply, "I'm sure Mr Dalton will have directions for you to follow."

"She's right about that." Dalton said, striding over to the pilot, "You just keep your mind on what I tell you, and we'll be fine."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Chakotay cautioned his crew, "This is going to be high risk…" He was interrupted by the beep of the vessel's main comm.

"Bolian vessel, please enter the station's orbit for security scanning." A bored sounding Cardassian officer ordered.

Chakotay gave Chell's broad blue shoulder a brief pat of support. "You're up Chell."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we're taking the best route?" Chakotay shouted over the din of ion storm interference as the Valjean plunged through the violent turbulence.<p>

"Yes!" Dalton called back, "The Bothran system is highly ion reactive, we should be almost there!"

"From my readings, we should enter visual range of Bothran III in 15.9 seconds…" Seven reported.

"I hope so! If this goes on for much longer, we'll sustain damage…" B'Elanna told Chakotay in frustration, bent double over her console as she struggled to stay upright. Before she could say more however, the battering of ion particles against the hull ceased, the ship diving out of one side of the storm and now looming over a large planet.

"It's M Class; its features identify it as Bothran III." Seven declared, exhaling a small sigh of relief.

Logan's hands slid off the controls for a moment and he threw them into the air with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. "Was that some good flying or not?" he laughed, "Through an ion storm without as much as a scratch!"

"I wouldn't go that far…" B'Elanna grumbled as she read the report from Engineering off her console.

"No, I wouldn't either." Chakotay agreed, running a hand through his hair as he shot Logan a mildly disparaging look, "I need you to land us now. The colonists need these supplies."

"I've been thinking about that, but _where_ exactly am I supposed to land?" Logan queried, frowning at the planet on the viewscreen.

Everyone immediately saw what he meant. They'd heard that Bothran III had been under sustained attack for a while, but none of them had expected to see the craters which littered the main continent like potholes in a road, some as big as the width of ten starships across and who knows how deep. There were still patches of green indicating fertility, but those were crisscrossed by swollen, bloated rivers, some of which had already burst their banks. Most of it through looked arid, the life blowing away on the wind, but they could still see the occasional settlement clinging to the land. Logan's problem was there was nothing that looked like a proper landing pad among these scattered fragments of civilisation. "Can't you contact them and ask them where exactly they want us to go?" He asked Chakotay, "It's a big planet."

"Not so many people anymore though, Federation or Cardassian." Dalton said wearily, "They can't use communications willy-nilly around here, the Cardassians would pick them up. "Most people…" He leaned over Logan's station to overlay a map over the picture on the viewscreen, "…land on that coastal edge. There are caves along there and most of the surviving colonists have had to flee there."

Chakotay breathed a deep, bracing breath, mentally preparing himself for the devastation he knew they'd face. "The coast it is then. Take us into land Pullman."

"It'll be a rough landing." Logan warned as he started the descent through the planet's atmosphere. "I doubt the strip is up to Starfleet's standards."

"Nothing or no one is up to Starfleet's blessed standards." Seska interjected sarcastically.

Chakotay didn't reply to that, instead taking Logan's warning on board. "All hands brace for impact!" he ordered through the ship wide comm. It was lucky that he did, for the landing was harder than even their pilot had anticipated. When the Valjean finally drew to a halt on the sandy ground, everyone lurched forward as their bodies fought to stop. "Is everyone okay?" Chakotay asked in concern when everything had drawn to a halt and they could hear people rushing towards the ship from outside.

"I think I've broken my wrist." Logan admitted, "I slammed up against the console pretty hard there."

Chakotay winced in sympathy as Seven went to her friend in concern. "We'll get you to Sickbay as soon as we've sorted out what's happening." Chakotay assured him, "That was an impressive landing, considering."

Logan grinned weakly in reply as he let Seven arrange a makeshift sling for him. "Thanks."

The slam of fists against the Valjean's main hatch interrupted the conversation and Tuvok left to investigate, bringing back a ragged group of people, all originating from the Federation, who had to be colonists. At the head of the small group was a petite Asian woman lugging a medical kit. "Maquis I presume?" she asked rhetorically, "Who's in charge here?"

Chakotay stepped obligingly forward. "I am ma'am." He answered politely, "I'm Chakotay. We're here to deliver your food and medical supplies."

The woman smiled now, her wariness dissipating. "Thank God, you have no idea how long we've been waiting for the Maquis to follow through…" She trailed off awkwardly, instead extending her small but work roughened hand to Chakotay. "I'm sorry, I'm Dr Chen Xiaohua, the head of provisions here at the moment." She indicated the people behind her, "If you don't mind, we'd like to start getting unloaded as soon as possible, we really need it…"

"Of course." Chakotay acquiesced quickly, "Seska, Celes, Chell, you all go help."

Dr Chen nodded to each one as they left to assist. "That was quite the rough landing, do you have any injured you'd like me to take a look at?"

"Yes, our pilot thinks he broke his wrist." Chakotay told her as Logan walked over with Seven, "You can use our Sickbay if it would be easier."

Chen smiled at him gratefully, "It certainly would. Lead the way please."

* * *

><p>"Just a minor fracture." Dr Chen assured Logan as she attended to his arm with a dermal regenerator and put it back in the sling. "Don't use it for a day or so, okay?" As Logan nodded, she looked around the Valjean's Sickbay, "Would you believe that our medicine store is less stocked than this and it covers most of the colony?"<p>

Chakotay grimaced but knew better than to ask, Logan did speak up however. "It's been that bad? You said something about waiting for the Maquis…"

Chen nodded hastily, "Yes. To be honest with you, until your crew came any Maquis who've landed here have wanted supplies from _us_ to continue the fight against the Cardassians."

Seven heard the bitterness in her tone. "You do not want to fight?" she asked neutrally.

Chen bit her lip, her eyes shifting over the three faces as if assessing their trustworthiness. "To be honest with you, the people here are starting to ask what this crusade is for. More bloodshed isn't doing them any good, the rivers are choked with debris from the battles and flooding the farmland so food is rationed to subsistence level…" Chen's fists clenched until her knuckles turned white, "We're having epidemics of waterborne and infectious diseases that were declared extinct by my medical textbooks!" She exclaimed in frustration, "People are dying here, not in honourable resistance against the Cardassians, but in suffering! The Maquis might find that when their war is over there are no colonists left to populate the planets…"

Seven saw an agonised expression pass over Chakotay's features and became defensive. "If the situation here is so irredeemable, why don't you leave?" she asked sharply.

"We can't." Dr Chen retorted coldly, "We're deep in new Cardassian territory, if we try to leave our ships will be shot down and the Federation won't come for us because they won't risk starting a war. We're stranded here."

* * *

><p>The next three days were some of the most stressful and heart-wrenching the Valjean crew had ever experienced. Seeing all the destruction and desperation first hand, as Dr Chen had done, made Chakotay torture himself over her argument. Was he doing the right thing? These sorts of thoughts made him glad as he prepared the ship for leaving, although he knew they'd need to return to help these poor people at some point…<p>

"Chakotay?"

Logan Pullman's voice behind him made Chakotay lower his bag and turn to face the pilot. "What can I do for you Pullman?" he asked tiredly, "We'll be leaving soon."

"I know." Logan replied, "I'm not coming with you, I've decided I'm needed here. A good pilot like me is what they need, to get the few shuttles they have through the ion storms to get supplies…" He paused as Chakotay remained silent, "It's not that I regret being part of your crew, we've kicked a lot of Cardassian ass, but…"

"That's not enough." Chakotay finished, sighing as Logan nodded. "I've been thinking like that those last few days too, but it doesn't change anything for me. If it does for you then I'll respect that."

Logan's posture relaxed slightly in relief, "It's good to here that from you Chakotay. We may have had our differences in the past, big ones, but you're one of the best commanders I've ever served under, I'm glad to have your support."

Chakotay laughed wryly, though it was strained. "You've been an impressive pilot Logan, got us out of a lot of scrapes."

Logan's brows creased in worry, "What will you do for a pilot now?"

"We'll get some other pilot with an adrenaline addiction from somewhere I guess. Believe it or not, I actually passed my Starfleet Advanced Piloting course with distinction." Chakotay assured him.

Logan held out his hand, "Good Luck Commander."

Chakotay shook his hand firmly as he saw Seven leaving the Valjean and heading over. "You too Logan."

Logan turned away as Chakotay pulled Seven aside to tell her, but she was soon beside him as he'd known she would be. "You're staying here?" she asked quietly in a resigned tone.

Logan tried to summon up a charming smile for her. "Yes, I'm staying Seven."

Seven searched his handsome face intently. "Dr Chen's views affected you?" She said this more as a statement than a question.

He exhaled sharply. "Yes, they did, but you've seen what it's like here for yourself Seven."

Seven looked down uneasily, frowning as she thought of the sickly children she'd seen. Would a Cardassian defeat really help them or just bring more upheaval? "Yes, I have." She took a deep breath to compose herself, "I understand why you are leaving us."

"But you won't." Logan said softly, reaching out to her. "I want you to promise me something honey."

Seven bit her lip, she'd didn't make many promises, but she felt she owed Logan for so many things. "Promise you what?" she asked shakily.

Logan cast a glance over her shoulder towards where Chakotay stood with the Valjean. "Don't wait too long." He said seriously, "You've already had so much of your life stolen from you by the Borg, don't give the rest of it over to revenge, _please_. You can have so much more than that Seven." He pleaded softly.

Seven blinked rapidly for a moment, her chest tightening. "I…I promise you I will live a full life Logan." She murmured thickly.

Logan smiled at her affectionately, "That's all I'm asking for."

Seven swallowed before impulsively wrapping him in the briefest of hugs, leaving both of them dazed as she retreated back to Chakotay, who had watched the scene uneasily. "Are you okay?" he asked her gently, placing an arm on her shoulder.

Seven's gaze was surprisingly weary, even drained, when she met his, shrugging off his hand. "Yes." She answered before disappearing into the Valjean.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D Thanks everyone for supporting this story so far, thirty chapters and counting! :)**


	31. A Pound of Flesh

"I knew the area around Bothran III was supposedly bad for plasma storms, but I didn't expect anything like this…" Nathaniel Harrow muttered as he stared at the Valjean's viewscreen, completely captivated by the sheer force of what was battering their small vessel with such violence but also with a strange beauty. The kaleidoscope of conflicting spacial plasmas swirled around them like some sort of grotesque, mutated rainbow, blotting out the normal, star dusted space which was so comfortingly familiar. The pressure created by the constant plasma reactions was pressing against the ship from all sides, causing the hull to groan so painfully that even the most hardened crewmembers flinched in dread.

"It's not supposedly anymore, we're definitely seeing it first-hand." Chakotay said tersely from his temporary post at the pilot's controls as he swerved skilfully to avoid a plasma burst, barely having time to take a breath before he had to lurch his ship downwards to duck out of the path of another such blast. "How far does this thing stretch Seven?" he asked, nearly shouting over the noise but still trying to cling to the calm he knew his crew needed.

"One million kilometres." Seven answered briskly, "It is just passing over Terok Din, heading in our direction."

"Terok Din?" Chakotay repeated, "Maybe this storm could be a stroke of luck in disguise, we can avoid the station altogether."

Dalton shook his head doubtfully from were he stood nearby, leaning on Chakotay's usual chair to stay upright in the turbulence. "I wouldn't advise that. If the Cardassians catch even a glimpse of you, they'll hunt you down. Gul Ishek's men aren't so lax as to ignore such an obvious breech of security, not to mention they'll take any excuse for a fight."

Chakotay's brow furrowed further as he considered Dalton's words. "Then we'll have to run the gauntlet again." He concluded with a heavy sigh, tapping the comm. link in his console to Engineering, "B'Elanna, how are we…" He was cut off by the sight of a huge explosion of flame coloured plasma, so directly in their path that it resembled an aimed shot from a phaser, surging towards them. He didn't have time to avoid it completely, but the few commands he did dial in undoubtedly saved the ship from instant destruction.

Still, even by dodging a direct hit, the strike overwhelmed the Valjean, it was shunned viciously sideways and in that moment several consoles overloaded, but it was the pilot's station which took the brunt. Seven heard a high pitched cry ringing brokenly in her ears as she witnessed Chakotay being thrown backwards as the explosion hit his defenceless body. She had already run to his crumpled form before she dimly realised the sound had been his scream mingled with the one that had been ripped from her own throat.

"Chakotay!" She sank down beside him, biting back a distressed sob as she saw his injuries. A sinister stain was rapidly darkening his shirt and she saw the cause at once, a shard of metal from his destroyed console had embedded itself into his upper abdomen. "Chakotay…" She repeated brokenly as she stubbornly swallowed the nausea that briefly overwhelmed her and instead focused on assessing his wound. Carefully avoiding the offending piece of debris, she had enough medical knowledge to know that either pulling it out or pressing it in would do more harm than good; she applied both hands to the area around it to stem the bleeding.

Chakotay groaned at the sensation, his dark eyes blinking up at her dimly. "Seven?" What…What happened?" He shifted in confusion, trying to sit up, but Seven hurriedly held him down, resting his body across her knees.

"Your console exploded. You were injured." She explained as quickly as possible while trying to keep her voice calm and unaffected. "Lie still until you can be taken to Sickbay."

"Seven, you…have to…" His chest heaved in a husky cough and drops of blood spewed from his lips, "…check with B'Elanna…if the sensor shield…"

"I will attend to that, do not concern yourself." Seven instructed him a little too sharply as she tried to ignore the damp sensation of his blood seeping into the fabric of her cloak, the metal must have gone straight through his back… "Don't move." She pleaded as she saw that his eyes were clouding over. "You're going to be fine…"

"Let me see him!" Seska demanded shrilly as she appeared on the Bridge, trying to push Seven aside as she came upon her wounded lover.

Seven watched an increasingly confused, stricken Chakotay tense at Seska's frantic tone and saw red. "Seska, don't…"

"Seven, what should we do?" Celes' panicked question forced Seven to reconsider her priorities as she registered for the first time that the entire Bridge was in uproar, with many walking wounded and illuminated only by emergency lighting.

She glared at Seska pointedly and quickly replaced her own hands on Chakotay's wound with Seska's. "Keep pressure on it." She ordered her as she stood up and addressed the rest of the Bridge crew. "Whoever is fit, carry Chakotay and the others that are severely wounded to Sickbay."

"Yes Ma'am." Ayala, Nathaniel Harrow and Gates all stepped forward to carry Chakotay out, Seska remaining rigidly by his side.

Seven now looked around the ravaged Bridge and saw that Tuvok had taken over the secondary pilot controls and was now flying the ship. "Tuvok, how much longer in this storm?"

"Eight minutes by my calculation." Tuvok replied, a frown of intense concentration carved on his face. "But the only viable escape route is within the parameters of Terok Din."

Seven remembered Chakotay's request and activated the comm. to Engineering, "B'Elanna, do we still have the sensor shield?"

B'Elanna reply over the damaged comm. system was slow to get through and crackling with interference. "What…happened to Chakotay? He called me…and then…"

"He is injured." Seven answered more bluntly than she had intended. "What is the status of the sensor shield?"

"Totally…blown out." B'Elanna replied despondently, "We've got nothing down here…I can barely give you impulse…."

"The Cardassians will see us!" Chell hissed fretfully.

Seven's bloodied hands clenched. "Then we will have to remain hidden in the plasma storm."

"One more hit like that and we'll all be dead." Dalton informed her sharply, "Even if we did make it through, your Chakotay would be dead by then, Sickbay won't do a wound like that much good."

Seven glanced down at her bloodied hands again and saw that the blood was unusually dark, almost brown, which meant it was probably arterial. Dalton was right. "Then what do you suggest?" she snapped at him.

"We go to Terok Din, just like before. If they did get hit by this storm as you said they did, then most, if not all, of their sensors will be out too."

Seven turned to Tuvok, whose gaze remained focused on the still rampant storm outside as he offered an opinion, "That does seem to be the only logical course of action but all are equally dangerous."

Seven took a deep breath as she tried to still her shaking limbs and slow her thudding heart to be able to think objectively, "Then set a course out of this storm towards Terok Din Mr Tuvok."

* * *

><p>They were hailed by Terok Din only when they came within visual range of the station, which added weight to Dalton's theory that their sensors had also been badly damaged by the storm. "Alien vessel, this station's sensors have been damaged by a Class Five plasma storm and thus we are asking all non-Cardassian vessels to dock at the station for manual security checks. Despite the damage we are still fully capable of capturing evaders."<p>

Seven had to prod Chell in the back to remind him to reply. "This is the Bolian trading vessel Valjean, we will dock as requested." He told the Cardassian shakily while shooting Seven a frightened look.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Terok Din out."

"What do we do now?" Chell squeaked, his voice gaining pitch as his panic increased. "When they board us they'll see that I'm the only Bolian on the ship, and a Maquis Bolian at that!"

"We will have to find a way to avoid the security sweeps altogether without raising suspicion." Tuvok mused, although his tone suggested he thought this was doubtful.

"There is one way…" Dalton muttered thoughtfully, "But I don't know how…"

"Tell us anyway." Seven demanded brusquely.

"Gul Ishek often gives certain vessels, those with his personal stamp of approval, codes which allow said ships to circumvent security altogether, but they're only in his office, given out by him alone." Dalton explained.

"Then I must enter his office and recover the codes." Seven concluded determinedly after a long, unhappy pause.

"How do you intend to do that?" Tuvok questioned, but Seven didn't answer him as he landed awkwardly in one of the station's docking bays.

"I'll find a way." She finally answered him quietly as the Valjean finally came to a halt, its crew silent as they awaited Cardassian discovery, sick with dread.

* * *

><p>Seven shrugged off her heavy, blood stained cloak almost as soon as she climbed out of the Valjean and found herself in the darkened and thankfully as yet otherwise unoccupied docking bay, she doubted the disguise would do much good now. It seemed se had some time before security officers made their way around to the Valjean, but she'd need to find those codes quickly. Walking as fast as she could while still appearing relatively natural, she found her way onto the promenade deck, meeting many conscript guards on her journey that seemed too shocked by her appearance to make any attempt to stop her. In fact, she made it to the grandiose staircase that wound its way up to the Gul's personal deck before a Cardassian with a superior air stopped her superficially confident strides."What exactly are you doing here girl?" He peered at her facial implants uneasily, "What exactly <em>are<em> you?"

Seven squared her shoulders, shrugging off his grip as she made herself imagine that she was still an invincible drone, part of an all-powerful Collective with nothing to fear. "I am a…unique woman." She answered, recalling Dalton's comments about Gul Ishek. "Dalton sent me for Gul Ishek."

The Cardassian's brows quirked in amusement and Seven fought the urge to squirm as his eyes swept over her figure. "Oh, did he now?" He waved over an underling, "Looks like Dalton finally came up with some goods for our esteemed Gul."

"She's a little covered up to be a real comfort woman isn't she?" His friend commented doubtfully as he took in Seven's attire, a long dark dress with high neck and sleeves to hide her other implants.

Seven shuddered at the use of the "comfort woman" euphemism but looked the other Cardassian in the eye as she replied coolly, "That is Gul Ishek's decision, not yours."

He laughed, "A fiery one, he'll like that!" He seized Seven roughly by the arm, "Come on, I'll take you up to wait for him."

He walked Seven directly past the office and into the next room, a sumptuously decorated room of pillows, sofas and decadent bowls of nibbles. Despite it's aura of an excessively opulent hotel room, Seven was struck by the scent of stale kanaar that brought nausea rising up her throat. As soon as the guard had left her alone, she fled the room and slipped into the unlocked office, immediately bending over the room's sole computer console. She had just inserted a data stick into the console to download the required codes when a slurred voice came loudly from behind her. "So, the girl Dalton's given me doesn't know the difference between a bedroom and an office?" Seven shivered as she turned around slowly to face the lumbering, drunken figure of Gul Ishek before her, returning his shocked stare with a stony one of her own.

"Who are you?" He asked, striding forward and grasping her chin to pull her implants closer to his bloodshot eyes.

"I…" Seven stopped as she was hit by the smell of his breath, the stale alcohol smell she had found in his rooms was putrid and overwhelming on his breath. "I was Borg."

"Borg?" He echoed incredulously, snatching at her cybernetic hand and shoving up her sleeve to reveal her full metal encased arm. "Well, I'll be!" He chuckled before letting her go, "Do you know the promotion I could get for handing you over to the Obsidian Order right now?"

Seven grimaced, remembering how much emphasis Chakotay had put on her not being discovered. She stared down at herself, the red of Chakotay's blood still engrained in her skin and casting a macabre colour on her implants. She'd had to try this, for him and for the crew. If capture came, she knew several methods to deactivate herself. "A large one?" she suggested stiffly.

"Yes, yes, a _big_ promotion!" Ishek agreed through his guffaws. He then trailed a finger down Seven's cheek and she instinctively drew back in disgust. "What's the matter? You didn't think I'd claim Dalton's thoughtful gift before I did anything else?" he sneered at her.

"No…" Seven croaked out honestly.

"Well…" Ishek pinned her to the wall now, "Even if you weren't _Borg_, as you claim, I still like you. Blondes aren't exactly common on Cardassia." Seven couldn't suppress a whimper of fear as his mouth suddenly crashed against hers, his tongue continuing the assault. He was unmoved by the terrified sound and she cringed as she felt her dress being ripped. She forced herself to remain still, to not resist, to do so would mean death. She dug her fingernails deep into the wall behind her and tried to shut out her emotions like a good drone, reciting mindless sequences in her head to distract herself from the terror that was gripping her. I'm sorry Kolopak. I'm sorry Chakotay… She pleaded mentally, but just then Ishek wrenched himself off her with a grunt as the office door opened.

"Sir, we have a situation." The intruder, another guard muttered apologetically, "There's been a meltdown in Engineering, everyone is being evacuated."

"If the evacuation is being carried out, what do you need me for exactly?" Ishek snarled, still staring lustfully at Seven.

"Because the Commander of the Fleet wants a report." The guard answered fearfully.

Ishek paled slightly and immediately stormed out of the room, slamming the door and leaving Seven alone. She slid down the wall he'd held her against, unable to suppress the hysterical sobs of relief that racked her chest for a few moments before she came to her senses and snatched the data stick with the downloaded codes out of the console before bolting from the room.

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! **


	32. Personal Crisis

"Seven, what happened to you?" Celes exclaimed in horror when she saw her friend return to the Bridge. The ex-Borg's normally coolly poised exterior was in disarray. Her hair lay loose and tangled around her shoulders, looking as if it had been yanked roughly from its pins and her dress, still stained with Chakotay's blood, had a thigh high slash in the skirt that made several pairs of eyebrows rise questioningly as they took in her wild expression and the unnatural flush colouring her otherwise ghostly pale skin.

If Seven saw her crewmates' expressions she ignored them as she did Celes' well-meaning question, almost running to the console when Tuvok sat, her eyes oddly glazed over as she thrust the small data stick clenched tightly in her fist into the Vulcan's palm. "These are Gul Ishek's security codes." She reported tersely.

"Good." Tuvok replied in a calm, businesslike tone as he loaded the codes into his console and transmitted them to the station's Bridge, "The false meltdown alert we triggered would not have distracted them for much longer." Seven couldn't help but take a sharp intake of breath as she realised her crew had inadvertently been her saviour, rather than the other way around, but she stiffened as she felt Tuvok's eyes studying her. Irrationally, she couldn't help but fear that behind his guarded, unreadable gaze he knew what she had done, had narrowly avoided. That thought, the shame brought on by it, upset her more than she would have thought possible, but like her Vulcan crewmate, remained relatively impassive as he guided her shaking body down onto the nearest chair without another comment.

The bark of a Cardassian voice down the comm. made Seven jump violently despite herself but she allowed herself to breathe when she realised it wasn't Gul Ishek. "This is Security hailing the Bolian trading vessel Valjean, your assessment exemption codes have been validated, you are free to be on your way."

"That was a close one." Seven heard one of the newer recruits hiss to a friend as Tuvok began the procedure for leaving the station as quickly as he could without raising the suspicion of the station's authorities.

"The danger is not yet over." She addressed the Bridge crew sharply, "We must remain on alert." She turned to Dalton as the group nodded hurriedly in cowed agreement, realising it was too early to celebrate. "Where is the nearest secure hospital for the wounded?" Seven asked Dalton, anxiety now obvious in her tone.

"On Selok II, 20 light-years from here." Dalton answered briskly as he wiped the sweat from his brow, "Its outside Cardassian space and they're known to have sympathy for the Maquis."

Seven's brow furrowed in frustration, "You are not certain they will help us?"

"It is rare, in my experience, that the Maquis are certain of anything Seven of Nine." Tuvok reminded her gently as he dialled in the coordinates for Dalton's suggestion without delay.

* * *

><p>Seven felt her heart stop in fear, her feet freezing to the floor, when she saw Seska and B'Elanna standing outside Sickbay. "What happened?" she asked, for once not caring that all of her emotion could he heard in her voice, "Is he…"<p>

B'Elanna was painfully struck by how stricken Seven looked, any trace of her Borg iciness had been melted away by fear and delayed devastation. She saw at once in the younger woman the same feelings that she herself had gone through when she'd heard of Chakotay's injuries and didn't hesitate to step forward compassionately, "No Seven, he's stable for now, thank goodness."

"Yes, thank goodness." Seven murmured thickly as she exhaled heavily in relief, but with that breath and those heartfelt words releasing some of her pent up emotions, some of her usual reserve returned to her, her back straightening as she spoke again, "Dalton has recommended a hospital, Mr Tuvok is taking us there now."

"We got out of Terok Din?" Seska asked, eyebrows arched in surprise and her voice strongly disbelieving.

Seven swallowed slightly as she answered, her hands clenching against her sides. "Yes, we did." She informed them but with a tiny quiver in her voice both women picked up on, "I got the security check exemption codes from Gul Ishek."

B'Elanna choked back a relieved laugh, "Great, I didn't think that fake meltdown I triggered from here would distract them for long! Good thing Dalton showed you where to break into the computers before…"

"Dalton didn't help her with this B'Elanna." Seska broke in darkly, her eyes narrowing into suspicious slits as her eyes swept knowingly over Seven's dishevelled appearance, "She didn't need his _computers_ to get his approval!" She hissed insinuatingly before she pointed directly at Seven accusingly, "Look, the lout didn't even grace her with a new dress afterwards, just the codes…"

B'Elanna's eyes widened in disbelief as Seska's accusation sunk in and, more damningly, Seven shrank back as if she'd been struck, blood rushing to her face and highlighting the silver of her implants. "Seska, that's out of line…" She began to argue angrily.

"She doesn't deny it B'Elanna." Seska shot back hotly, her glare becoming triumphant as Seven turned away, "Everyone knows that Gul Ishek doesn't give anything away for free…"

"Stop it Seska, you're going way too far." B'Elanna told her tightly as she watched Seven walk away from Sickbay without even seeing Chakotay, who'd been asking for her constantly whenever he was conscious.

Seska stared at her fellow engineer in angry disbelief, hands on hips. "You're defending that Borg slut?" she asked incredulously, "After all the times we've both complained about her?"

B'Elanna ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "Look, Seven is a…difficult person, but you can't just accuse her of…" She spluttered slightly on the word, "…_prostituting_ herself! It's damned cruel and unfair, we have no idea how she got those codes and I for one am glad she did or else we'd all be in Cardassian custody and Chakotay would be dead!"

"Are you saying I should be _grateful_ to that drone for…" Seska began to spit out venomously.

"Yes, I think I am." B'Elanna retorted coldly as she turned away from her dismissively to follow Seven and hopefully find out the truth.

* * *

><p>Seven was stumbling desperately towards her quarters to try to collect herself when B'Elanna's voice behind her made her stop in her tracks and almost fall against a bulkhead. "What really happened Seven?" B'Elanna asked quietly.<p>

Seven leaned into the cool metallic surface of the bulkhead, her nails scratching into the panelling as she struggled to control herself. "Didn't Seska already offer you a theory?" she replied resentfully.

B'Elanna sighed as she shrugged her shoulders. "A theory is a theory, the truth always trumps that."

"True." Seven answered shakily, wiping furiously at her eyes as she spun around to face the other woman. "It is not far from the truth actually." She said with as much dignity as she could muster, "I did…put myself in harms way." She watched for B'Elanna's reaction but saw none and continued with a deep breath, "I knew from Dalton and others that women are allowed free rein on the station and I'd seen from sensors in the docking bay that Gul Ishek was on the Bridge, far from his personal computer, so I…I believed deception was worth risking." She gripped at her torn dress, a horrible token of that plan, and avoided B'Elanna's gaze, "I revealed my implants, told the guards I was a…gift…" She shuddered in violent disgust and B'Elanna felt a surge of empathy for the stiff Borg, "…for Gul Ishek. As I anticipated, I was taken up to his deck and found his office. I had begun downloading the codes when…"

B'Elanna gulped hard, overcoming her usual wariness of the former drone to come closer to her. "He found you?" she guessed in a near whisper.

Seven stared at a distant point over B'Elanna's head as she answered robotically, "Yes. He intimidated me and…pushed me against a wall and…kissed me…"

B'Elanna gripped Seven's arm hard, "Seven, did he do anything else?" she asked slowly, wondering if the sheltered girl knew what she meant.

Seven's gaze hardened and B'Elanna was faced with the frightening bluntness of a drone. "No, Seska was incorrect. He was…interrupted by the meltdown you orchestrated and I completed the code transfer."

B'Elanna stayed silent for a moment as she considered what to say. "Well, by doing that you saved us all, including Chakotay, so thank you." She began awkwardly, "He attacked you. You couldn't have predicted that, it's nothing to be ashamed of…"

"Isn't it?" Seven snapped, her voice cracking, "I was preparing myself for it! I didn't fight him off because I required those codes, isn't that just as bad as what Seska accused me of?" She was, to her embarrassment, aware of fresh tears trickling down her cheeks as she said this.

B'Elanna shook her head firmly, "No, I don't think so. You had to cope with a situation that could've turned deadly, everyone will understand…"

"Chakotay _cannot_ know!" Seven choked out, "He'd despise me, dispose of me for even considering such a course of action!" She felt her chest begin to constrict as this new panic hit her, "He won't forgive me…"

B'Elanna sighed, privately thinking that Chakotay was more likely to "dispose of" that Gul than say as much as an angry word to Seven in one of those bursts of protective rage he was prone to where Seven was concerned that so provoked Seska's ire, as well as, more often than she wanted to admit, her own jealousy. "I don't know about that, but I won't tell him, that's your duty Seven." Seeing the blonde stiffen in denial, she decided to press further, "And you should tell him, it won't do you any good to hide it in the long run."

"Perhaps." Seven finally admitted reluctantly after a long pause. "Thank you B'Elanna."

Despite the intense nature of the conversation, B'Elanna was still startled by the offer of gratitude and shrugged it off. "Women need to stick together where certain things are concerned." She told Seven quietly before an idea struck her and she went to the nearest replicator, quickly returning with a small packet. "Take these."

Seven blushed scarlet despite herself when she read the packet's contents. "Contraceptives? I didn't…"

"I know." B'Elanna assured her, "But Kahless knows, we can't be too careful out here. We're not exactly on Earth. Something like this could happen again, and be worse, it's better to be prepared."

"Yes." Seven muttered regretfully, hiding the packet in her hand as she and B'Elanna went their separate ways without another word.

**A/n: I hope this chapter comes across as believable and okay for T rating, it was hard to write! PLEASE REVIEW! :D On a cheerier note, the next chapter will be Seven and Chakotay's reunion! :)**


	33. Mutual Dependency

The Selokian doctor let out a small sigh as his gaze moved from his unconscious patient, to the medical chart in his hand, and then back to the patient's anxiously waiting friends. "He was lucky to get here when he did, he'll have no lasting damage, the surgery was successful. If the impalement had occurred on the left side of his chest rather than his right, he'd have died for certain." The doctor saw the cloaked figure by the bedside, the only female among his visitors, stiffen, her hooded head bowing deeper over the young man's still body, and felt sympathy fill him. "As it is he's broken most of the ribs on his right side and will probably have a scar for a while, but by resting here he should make a full recovery."

The woman's acknowledging nod was slow and hesitant. Her Vulcan friend, the doctor knew none of their names, spoke instead. "Thank you for that prognosis and your treatment Doctor. It is much appreciated."

The doctor shook his head. "I took an oath to help the injured, whoever they are." He replied honestly.

This statement seemed to embolden the young woman, although she still kept her face hidden. "Will he…" She corrected herself, placing one pale hand tentatively over the patient's larger tanned one. "When will he regain consciousness?"

The doctor smiled down at her kindly, "Once the anaesthetic we put him under for surgery wears off, he should come around easily enough." He assured her before added the requisite word of caution, "With an injury like this, the shock of it might keep him under for longer. Sometimes we have to let the body take its own time to recover."

The woman's slight shudder was just noticeable under her cloak but as the Vulcan moved to stand behind her she remained silent. "Thank you Doctor." The Vulcan repeated again, his gaze only flickering down briefly to the bed when the doctor had left the room. "His recovery is apparently progressing well. I will inform the crew and hopefully that will help them focus better on repairs."

Seven nodded, taking Tuvok's typically Vulcan form of reassurance to heart as much as she could. "Yes, I am sure the crew will be relieved." She agreed quietly, although as she stared at Chakotay she didn't feel very relieved herself. The sight of him lying there so helplessly was like the torture of those terrifying minutes on the Valjean all over again. "I would be of more use assisting with the repairs…" She started, her voice quivering as she held back a frightened sob and stood up abruptly.

"No, you need to be here." Dalton stated firmly, gently pushing Seven back into the chair by the shoulders. "The repairs can wait until Chakotay's fit enough to tell you what to fix first." He added with a tight smile.

This was one of those rare times when Tuvok was in complete agreement with the smuggler. It was true that the Valjean needed every pair of hands available for repairs, and he'd had enough trouble as it was restraining the entire crew from descending on the hospital to follow Chakotay's recovery, but he felt that Seven had performed enough duties for now and knew that the Maquis leader would want to follow the human practice of having a "loved one" by his side when he woke. "It would be a logical step to have a crewmember with Chakotay at all times for security reasons." He remarked stoically to Seven, his face, as usual, betraying none of his mental considerations.

Seven felt tension she hadn't known she'd had abandon her body as their permission sunk in and a heavy sigh rattled her slender frame as she turned her attention back to Chakotay. "Then I will remain here." She murmured, her shoulders hunching over as she bent protectively over Chakotay. It was almost as if the weight of the responsibility was physically pressing down on her. "Thank you." She belatedly remembered to add, glancing gratefully up at the two older men.

A nurse's entry stopped either Tuvok or Dalton from replying. "I'm sorry, but you'll all have to leave, visiting hours were over hours ago." She said brusquely as she checked the machines constantly reeling off data covering all aspects of Chakotay's condition.

Dalton bristled as he saw Seven blanch. "This is a private room, what does it matter…"

The nurse was unrepentant, meeting Dalton's angered gaze stonily. "It matters because that's the rule of this hospital."

"Then we will leave." Tuvok assured her, his cool manner mollifying the prickly nurse quickly. He moved towards the doorway without further argument, restraining himself to glancing at Seven with what looked for a moment like regret.

Dalton took a more active approach, quietly pulling the nurse aside. Seven heard the distinctive clink of latinum as well as a muttered explanation but didn't move from where she sat, only looking away from Chakotay when Dalton tapped her shoulder. Tuvok and the nurse were both conspicuously absent. "I have to leave, but you've been allowed to stay." Dalton told her, his sense of triumph evident even in his conspiratorially hushed tones.

Seven's eyebrows rose, albeit more sluggishly than normal, even as the question left her lips she realised she didn't care. "How did you "bend the rules" this time?"

"A few slips of latinum." Dalton said with a shrug before a knowing glint entered his eyes, "I also told her that you're his pregnant wife. Not even a cow like that nurse would turn out…" Seeing that Seven's cheeks were as red as his favourite wine at the very suggestion of this white lie, he winked at her as he gave her arm a supportive squeeze. "The truth is what you make of it Seven, what's the harm of it if it keeps you here with him?"

"I'm sure that logic has served you well during your criminal career." Seven replied, embarrassment making her voice sharp until she remembered that without Dalton dishonesty she would be on the way back to the Valjean and completely in the dark about Chakotay. "I will repay you for the latinum." She muttered as she clasped Chakotay's hand comfortably in hers again. His skin felt pleasingly warm, if she closed her eyes perhaps she could convince herself he was just asleep…

Dalton chuckled at the reluctance in her tone. "No need. Consider it my way of paying you back the debt of saving the Valjean back there." Seven's eyes shot up to his fearfully, but he seemed unaware, or else undisturbed, by what she'd had to do. "I won't have another chance."

"You're leaving?" Seven questioned immediately, her surprise genuine.

Dalton nodded, "I have a ship of my own to get back to, this favour to the Maquis has taken me a lot longer than expected." He reminded before casting a sad glance over at Chakotay, "You tell Chakotay when he wakes up that with him and his crew as part of it, I might consider giving up my pirate ways to join the noble Maquis cause."

If he wakes up, if he's the same, Seven fretted mentally before trying to refocus politely on what Dalton had said, "I would be happy to recommend you to him for a permanent position." She told him wryly, but her heart wasn't in it and something of her previous thoughts must've shown on her face because Dalton's next words were serious, his gaze unwavering.

"He will wake up Seven, hope is never irrelevant." He said fervently, briefly placing a hand over Seven and Chakotay's already entwined ones in solidarity as he smiled at her. "I'm sure that one kiss from his Borg princess would wake him up soon enough." Seven's brows furrowed, discomfiture at what he alluded to overtaking her utter bemusement at what he mean. Dalton chuckled sheepishly, "I guess the Collective isn't into fairy tales, right?" he asked.

"No." Seven answered bluntly, the exhaustion gnawing at her mind relentlessly preventing her from even attempting to analyse what he was saying.

"Of course not." Dalton muttered with a sigh as he stood up, giving Seven's cheek an affectionate pat. "Good Luck with everything sweetheart. If Chakotay ever does wrong by you, let me know alright?"

"But he wouldn't." Seven answered defensively, stiffening as tears threatened momentarily.

Dalton smiled at her, though his eyes were sad as they fell on Chakotay. "I know that too."

* * *

><p>Seven distractedly pulled the thin curtain away from the room's window, hoping, irrationally she supposed, that the grey light of earliest dawn would make Chakotay awaken from his suffering slumber, but his eyes didn't even flicker and it did little to sooth her nerves either. Selok II's twin suns gradually tingeing the clouds crimson would have been beautiful any other day, but that morning she was morbidly reminded of blood. Even as she looked down at her hands, shaking with stress she couldn't otherwise express, resting on Chakotay's pristine white bed cover, she was reminded of when they'd been soaked in Chakotay's blood or clenched against Gul Ishek's assault. As she had throughout the night she took Chakotay's hand and squeezed it, although if she were honest with herself it was more for the reassurance of his touch than to jolt him awake, she'd lost faith in that idea. Still, she found the now familiar plea leaving her lips, "Wake up Chakotay, please…" Despite herself, she glanced hopefully up at his face, flinching despondently when his handsome face made no reaction. She preferred to keep her eyes on his face, but, as always, her eyes travelled down to his wound. His upper chest, left exposed by the doctors, was bound tightly with bandages and gauze. The injury had been so deep that after surgery a dermal regenerator had given way to these time honoured techniques to stop the bleeding. She wondered how stark the scar would be, although undoubtedly it would be nothing compared to her own implants, the thought of it worried her. Her head suddenly felt so heavy that she finally let her head rest on the bed. Watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed had a somewhat hypnotic effect but also reinforced that he had to wake up, he just <em>had<em> to. She pressed her cheek against the back of his hand, which she still held, as she tried to suppress the sobs fighting for supremacy in her chest. "Please Chakotay…" She whispered faintly, her lips brushing briefly against his hand as she pleaded, breathing heavily.

A dull moan of pain echoed in her ears but it took her a few seconds to realise it was not her own as Chakotay's eyes blinked leadenly open. "Seven…" He forced out through his parched throat as he recognised the blonde head bent over his arm, the silvery scar of the implant under her ear glittering in the half light.

Seven jumped as if he'd hit her, looking as dazed as he felt as she sprang haphazardly to her feet with a ragged gasp. "Chakotay!" She immediately reached for the comm. near the bed, "Doctor…"

"Seven, wait, what happened…" Chakotay croaked out hoarsely, trying to reach for the cup of water nearby with his right hand only to find that that whole side of his body throbbed with a burning ache.

Seven took the water herself and held it to his lips, explaining his pain as she did so. "You broke all the ribs on your right side, I don't recommend using that arm."

"Agreed." Chakotay muttered, some power returning to his voice after the drink, then he gasped as memory came flooding back. "The plasma storm, my console exploded…"

"And a fragment of it impaled your upper right chest cavity." The doctor explained as he entered and, much to Seven's relief, began checking Chakotay over. "You're very lucky to be alive."

"I know." Chakotay admitted, a sick feeling settling deep in his stomach as he saw Seven's face mirror his own and pale at the memory. For him, the most vivid part was staring up at Seven's distraught face as she came to his aid. When he'd seen so much panic in her normally controlled features, he'd known it was bad with even more certainty than the pain or blood had given him. He grimaced at the thought, he didn't think he'd get the expression in her blue eyes at that horrific moment out of his mind for a long time, if ever.

Even when the doctor was satisfied with him and had left them, Seven continued to look haunted, her eyes following his every move anxiously. Finally he looked at her directly, forcing her to meet his gaze. "What happened after I was out of it? How many people did we lose?"

Seven winced at him asking the question so soon, but she knew him well enough to expect it. "There were ten injured, none as seriously as you, they should be assisting with repairs…" She took a deep breath as his dark gaze bored into her, "Pateli and Dobson are dead."

Chakotay swallowed as the two friendly faces of his two fallen crewmates, men he'd been responsible for, flashed in front of his eyes. "Good men." He murmured respectfully before a question that had been bothering him cropped up its ugly head. "How did we get here to Selok II? That's beyond Terok Din…"

If anything, Seven seemed even more reluctant to answer this question than the one about their losses, which made Chakotay uneasy. "Thankfully, the station's sensors had been damaged by the same plasma storm and B'Elanna managed to trick them with a fake system meltdown…" She trailed off, her gaze growing alarmingly distant, "We also…obtained Gul Ishek's personal security codes…"

Chakotay frowned questioningly, "Really? How?"

Seven blinked repeatedly, her eyes strangely glassy as she forced out a reply, "It doesn't matter…" Something seemed to crumple in her as she looked at him, her voice breathless and obscured by suppressed sobs. "I was so scared for you…for all of us. Forgive me…"

Chakotay was shocked by this near collapse and reached out for her with his good arm. "There's nothing to forgive about being scared Seven!" He told her shakily, "I thought I was going to die, I was scared too…"

Seven gulped valiantly, a modicum of composure returning to her for an instant. "Yes, I know." She whispered brokenly before finally falling forward onto the bed, her head resting lightly against his legs but with her face turned away from him.

"Hey…" Chakotay started, guilt stricken and quickly placing his good hand on her shuddering back to try to soothe her. He was hurt when she stiffened at his touch but knew it was probably shame on her part. She'd be upset by breaking down like this in front of anyone, even him, who'd seen more of her vulnerable side than anyone else. He could feel her spine and ribs through her clothes as he continued to stroke her back and his guilt intensified, when was the last time she'd regenerated or eaten? "I'm sorry I've put you through all this Seven." He murmured, knowing by the way she stilled under his touch that she knew he meant more than this particular mission, more like their entire entry into the Maquis. "You know that I'm never going to leave you alone don't you?" he pressed, his voice thick with an emotion he couldn't name.

Seven felt tears burn violently behind her lashes and for once let them fall unhindered down her cheeks even as she stubbornly repressed the sobs shaking her chest. She knew that he'd want her to say something, or as least turn to face him, but at that moment it was all she could do to nod weakly against his knees.

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D This chapter was REALLY difficult and I'm still not really satisfied with it. **


	34. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Yes, I know he's never going to leave me… Seven breathed a choked sigh as her answer to Chakotay's words ran through her mind again, but yet, as resolute as her belief in him was, she couldn't bring herself to say the words to him, even as she continued to lie slumped over his knees. Chakotay must've heard her struggling breaths as his hand moved over her back again, trying to soothe her, but in fact his warm, living touch, unthinkingly given, pained her almost as much as indifference would have. Yes, she knew he cared for her welfare, would protect and shelter her, but he couldn't promise what he'd just said. Hadn't he tried to leave her alone once? It had been her who'd followed him to the Maquis, against his wishes. She didn't wholly regret that choice, it had seemed the only one open to her at the time and Kolopak's death had given her a need for retribution and justice just when that had become Chakotay's sole purpose in life. Still, the events of the past few hours and days had shaken her to the core, and she realised now that the vileness of the Cardassians, the fate of the colonies and the intrigues of the Federation were utterly irrelevant to her if Chakotay was dead. This revelation was the one which froze her tongue, for if she truly believed that he'd never leave her, whatever happened or what she did, she'd cry into his lap, beg and plead for him to abandon this futile fight and go and find peace with her somewhere. She wouldn't though; it was a fantasy that he'd leave the Maquis at her will. If she broke her commitment to it he'd reject her for certain. She should have stopped him going down the road of revenge, but instead she'd joined him on it, the Maquis was his life now and it was pointless to wish otherwise.

So, she forced her head up from his bed and instead propped herself on her elbows with a resigned sigh as she tried to hide her tear stained cheeks with her hands. A shaky smile of relief flickered across Chakotay's face as he saw her recover, but somehow seeing her regain some of her Borg stoicism so soon after a breakdown by her standards unsettled him. Sometimes her ability to bounce back so quickly after trauma disturbed him, it dehumanised her. "Feeling better?" he asked softly.

Seven's oddly glinting blue eyes shot him a questioning look. "I was not injured in the plasma storm." She told him stiffly, although he heard the tiniest sniff in her voice that made him belatedly recognise the unshed tears in her eyes with a painful jolt.

"I'm glad about that honey." He murmured sincerely as he took her chin in his good hand to turn her face towards his and give her a pointed look, absently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear for her as he did so, "But you know I didn't mean physically." He saw fear flash through her pale eyes and withdrew from her, hurt. "Talk to me Seven." He asked firmly.

Her gaze wavered, the colour draining from her face until the faint paths of the few tears she hadn't been able to hold back were starkly obvious on her skin. "Chakotay, I…"

Seska, who had been watching the latter half of this exchange completely, almost rudely, unnoticed, decided now was the moment she had to interrupt and rapped loudly on the door. "Chakotay?" She called loudly.

Seven jerked as if Seska had shot a bullet at her, immediately bolting upright and keeping her eyes downcast, dread filling her as she remembered the Bajoran's accusations. "I apologise, I will leave…"

Seska's lips twitched in a way that clearly showed she _didn't _accept the apology. In face her nose turned up slightly as she replied coldly, "Yes, I think that's a good idea."

Chakotay stared at the two women in disbelief as Seven obligingly moved away from him and then hurriedly towards the door. He'd always known there was animosity between the two women, but he felt as if the room temperature had just dropped ten degrees. He could hear the threat laced through Seska's tone and see that Seven was cowed by it, which truly perplexed him. He'd never seen Seven outwardly frightened of someone before. "No Seven, don't go, we weren't finished talking…"

Seven glanced back over her shoulder at him, her eyes unreadable. "Chakotay, you are recovering and I have expressed my relief, anything else is irrelevant right now." She murmured resignedly, giving Seska a hard stare before disappearing out the door.

Chakotay saw a triumphant smile radiate over Seska's face for an instant as Seven left, it lasted barely for a second, but it was enough to embitter him towards her. "Was that really necessary?" he asked darkly, "Are you going to turn B'Elanna or Celes out of my room next? Are you that jealous?"

Seska laughed sharply, "Someone's got a big opinion of themselves!" she retorted, offended, before slinking seductively over to his bedside. "I don't have to be irrationally jealous of some drone to want some alone time with you Chakotay." She said softly, running a hand up his injured right side that made him grimace. "I was just so worried about you I couldn't stay away from you on the Valjean any longer…" She whispered, pressing her lips to his cheek for a lingering kiss.

"I was worried about you too, about everyone." Chakotay admitted as he accepted the caress, although at that moment he found the kiss a little theatrical and her husky tone, which normally aroused desire in him, was irritating him.

"I know, you care about everyone, even that Borg." Seska said airily, "It's one of the things I love about you…"

Really? A new voice of doubt asked loudly in Chakotay's mind, how often have you tried to convince me to give up on a traumatised recruit or not perform humanitarian missions for the colonies when we could be killing Cardassians? "I hope so." He murmured sadly in answer, shifting as the pain in his chest and arm worsened. "Seska…" He began slowly, indicating the wound, "I think this proves just how much I've given to the Maquis, how much I'm going to have to focus on keeping us all alive…"

"You've done that so far." Seska interrupted.

"What about Pateli and Dobson?" Chakotay sharply reminded her of their latest losses.

Seska began to backtrack, "Well of course that's tragic, but still…" She paused thoughtfully, studying him intently, "It's natural to have doubts about everything after such a close call Chakotay…"

"Maybe." Chakotay muttered unhappily before meeting her gaze firmly, "But I still think my sole focus right now should be the Maquis Seska, I can't get distracted."

Incredulity settled on Seska's features as she read into his words. "Do you consider _me_ a _distraction_ now?" she hissed disbelievingly, the confidence of just moments before floundering. "I thought you loved me…" She choked out brokenly, eyes wild.

"I do." Chakotay whispered thickly, the pain in his heart confirming the words. He did love Seska, her vivacity and her charm, there were so many things about her he loved, but other things about her repulsed him and he couldn't deny that either. The fire within her burned him more often than not, and he couldn't handle it any more, not now when he'd just looked death in the face. "But we're just not good for each other right now." He continued, his voice saddened but firm.

"And I'm just supposed to agree with that am I?" Seska spat out resentfully.

"Yes." Chakotay answered with barely a pause, "I'm starting to think that no relationship could work under our circumstances."

Seska actually laughed at him, bitterly and scathingly, "It's not my fault I can't be your perfect little housewife Chakotay, _you _chose this life!"

"I did." Chakotay said heavily, flinching as she turned away from him. "Seska, I'm sorry…"

"Don't!" she snapped before twisting back around to glare at him. "You know what Chakotay, if you're going to dump me as a distraction I suggest you deal with your bigger one, that Borg slut of yours."

Chakotay flinched angrily at the insult towards Seven, though almost laughed at how of the mark it was, Seven was the most chaste young women he knew. "Don't make this about Seven, because it's not…" He began in frustrated exasperation.

"It will be when you hear what she did." Seska replied, her eyes glittering. "Did she tell you how she got those Cardassian codes?"

Chakotay hated that her words got to him, making his stomach sink to the floor in foreboding as he remembered what Seven had said, forgive me… "She just told me the crew used them to get past Terok Din…"

"Well, she was the one who got them, from Gul Ishek himself." Seska stated smugly without elaborating.

"How?" Chakotay growled, hating himself for getting dragged into another of Seska's games.

Seska's mouth twisted into a superior smirk, "How else would a woman get something off a man-whore like Gul Ishek? By being one herself that's how." She saw his jaw stiffen into a snarl and pressed her point open as she turned towards the door again, "There's nothing more efficient for a woman than opening your legs to get what you want and what else does she care about?" She gave a sour laugh, "If I did already know you had better taste in women I'd believe the rumours that that's how she gets around you too."

"Shut up Seska!" Chakotay roared in rage, starting to try to scramble out of bed, "If you think I'd believe any of that crap then you've never known me at all!"

"Maybe not." Seska murmured, "But who's to say you know Seven any better?" With that she departed Sickbay, leaving her ex-lover with the turmoil he'd brought on himself.

**A/n: Oh, this chapter was difficult but it was enjoyable to write my take on the Chakotay/Seska break up. I know that in the show Chakotay just said "We both decided a long time ago this wouldn't work" but I decided to make it less mutual, this is ultimately a C/7 fic after all. PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	35. Double Jeopardy

**A/n: Thanks to NikkiB1973 for posting a new story called "Fever". It's a brilliant P/T fic based on one of my fave episodes "Blood Fever". I really recommend reading it, it's awesome so far! :)**

Chakotay shifted irritably on the thin, scratchy sheets of his hospital bed, there where none of the sleek, Starfleet issue, biobeds here, and was punished by a sharp searing pain radiating over his whole upper torso from the wound in his chest. He ignored it as best he could though and moved again, too many noxious thoughts were attacking his brain to give him the peace his healing body needed and in fact at that dark moment he found physical pain a blessed distraction. It was either that or he found a way to dope himself up to the point where he forgot what Seska had told him, what she had _implied_… A frustrated growl that became a groan left his throat as his mind came back to Seska. When he thought of her his chest hurt, not at his wound but somewhere deep inside, his heart squeezing. She'd been so violent, so bitter in her tirade that he was angry and ashamed of himself for being attracted to such a person, what had he been thinking? The rose-tinted glasses she'd skilfully placed over his eyes with her beauty, charm and wit had been spectacularly knocked aside by her actions and words, the wild accusations that he didn't, couldn't, believe. He'd seen the worst side of her character, and now, as he anxiously mulled the day over in his mind, he couldn't help but resent his own. He _wanted_ to be able to dismiss what he'd heard with an unconcerned ease, but he'd found in these hours that he wasn't as trusting as he'd always thought he was, couldn't calm himself with the thought that he hadn't heard the facts. The poisonous seed of a scenario that Seska had planted in his mind kept growing, becoming more twisted and uncontrollable with every passing minute.

He knew better, of course, than to take Seska's explanation of events while he'd been unconscious at face value. Even in good times Seska had a tendency to fight the truth and bend it to fit her point of view and he had no doubt that she'd done that now. Every time he tried to convince himself once and for all that it was all just a spouting of vindictive lies on Seska's part, the memory of Seven starting to plead, tearfully, for his forgiveness returned vividly to his mind. He'd thought at the time that she'd just been upset by his near death, but now he put more significance on it. Could she really have… Now that he analyzed it, the reluctance she'd shown to talk about the events after his injury was unusual and her quick dismissal of his question about the codes downright odd. In another person, this would have seemed far from damning, but the Seven he knew could recall events with an eerie accuracy and was often so uncompromisingly blunt about facts, never sugar-coating anything, that she was left in a social quagmire afterwards. In this way she was the opposite of Seska, but equally difficult to handle. As the possibility slowly became more concrete in his mind, the torture he felt increased. Despite himself, all the reasons why Seven might have done something like this kept occurring to him. Her sense of self was so tightly wrapped up in her "Collective", which was himself and the Valjean crew now, that he knew she'd do just about anything to protect them. It was a trait he respected, even hoped he shared, but sometimes she took it to the point of a martyr complex. She was naïve, with a more elastic moral code about certain things, or complete ignorance of them. That was a legacy of her time with the Borg no doubt, but would she really stoop to letting herself be defiled by a _Cardassian _for the sake of a set of codes, no matter how vital?

To his distress he realised he couldn't answer the question. He considered asking the nurse outside in the hall to get Tuvok for him, the astute Vulcan would surely know, and be willing to tell him honestly, what had gone on but he didn't he could face hearing what could be one of the worst answers in his life from the older man's calculatedly indifferent lips. He forced himself to sit up in bed as a hated conclusion hit his heart, he'd need to ask Seven himself. A sick feeling of dread ate at his gut as he began the struggle to climb out of bed, brought on by fear of her confirmation, and by the hurt he'd cause her just by asking. Lies or not, Seska could have just broken irreparably the ties of trust between himself and Seven that had taken years to form and to bind them close.

He felt a wince cross his face as he tried to manoeuvre off the bed and couldn't quite choke back a moan, but it was a newcomer's horrified gasp that filled the quiet room. "Chakotay, what are you doing?" B'Elanna exclaimed anxiously as she stood just inside the doorway.

Chakotay didn't meet her fearful, searching eyes in case his resolve should waver. "I need to talk to Seven…" He ground out through gritted teeth.

"About what?" B'Elanna demanded sharply, stepping further into the room.

Chakotay noticed her tone and stared at her levelly. "I spoke to Seska." He began tiredly, "Now I need to speak to Seven."

B'Elanna paled visibly at the mention of Seska's name and as Chakotay's eyes narrowed in dark suspicion she knew she had to say something. "Look Chakotay, I know Seska might have had some…theories about how we got those codes but…"

"Seven didn't go to the Cardassians?" Chakotay interrupted hopefully, his emotions plunging back down as he watched B'Elanna swallow. "Tell me everything you know…" He started angrily, trying again to stand up.

"For Kahless' sake Chakotay, you'll reopen your wound!" B'Elanna snapped, using all her strength to hold him back before sighing heavily. "She tricked the codes out of the Gul Ishek yes, but Seska is wrong, he barely touched her and I don't think she would've let him in the end. We were desperate Chakotay, even with faking the radiation leak we still wouldn't have been able to get out of there without those codes…"

"That doesn't justify the risk!" Chakotay burst out, "I can't believe she would even consider…" He stopped, choking on emotion as his cheeks reddened with exertion, "If that's the only explanation she can give me then…"

"It won't be." B'Elanna cut in, pushing him back to the bed, "I'll go get her before you make yourself haemorrhage." She muttered as she watched his chest heave for air, sighing in relief as he nodded.

* * *

><p>B'Elanna couldn't help but rake over her shock at Chakotay's reaction as she moved hurriedly through the Valjean in search of Seven. She never would have thought that the calm and controlled Chakotay, often the only one whose softly spoken words of reason could dampen her own temper, would've lost his cool to such a degree. He'd almost reminded her of a martial argument she'd once witnessed between a friend's parents, the father nearly ripping his hair out as he demanded details of the mother's infidelity. She grimaced jealously at the surprising comparison but it had been made before, one of the Valjean crew's fonder nicknames for Seven wasn't "the missus" for nothing, said behind the backs of the oblivious pair who couldn't really be called a couple in normal terms.<p>

B'Elanna's agitation rose even further as she saw Seven tampering with the warp engine control console, which was supposed to be _her_ sole responsibility, but forced herself to overlook that in favour of the issue at hand. "You'd better leave that to me." She said shortly, "Chakotay wants to see you."

Seven immediately whirled around to face her, having ignored her entrance. "Has his condition worsened?"

"No." B'Elanna answered, unable to keep the relief from her voice, "But his mental state has, Seska has apparently been talking about you."

Seven's face, always naturally pale, drained of colour until it appeared disturbingly grey. "That is…unfortunate…" She admitted, gulping hard, "But he won't believe…"

B'Elanna took her arm and pulled her aside into a corner, glad that Engineering itself was almost deserted, the crew repairing the hull as per her instructions. "Well, he believed enough to be scared and want to know the truth from you." She replied in a low tone, glaring at Seven in exasperation, "You promised me you'd tell him to avoid a scene like this…" She hissed accusingly.

Seven bowed her head, her shame and guilt radiating from her and giving her a defeated air. "I tried…" She mumbled, "But it was very difficult for me and Seska interrupted…"

B'Elanna softened a little in understanding, but was still frustrated by the whole situation in which she'd somehow become entangled. "I know it would've been hard to tell him, but you've made it a hundred times worse by giving Seska the privilege…"

Seven flinched before meeting B'Elanna's gaze with her own eyes flashing. "You would never have told him either."

B'Elanna coloured, managing to stop herself from saying the "no" which echoed through her mind. She hated that Seven was right, and embarrassed that the Borg seemed to know of her powerful crush on Chakotay, obviously the drone was more observant that she was given credit for. "It doesn't matter what I would do!" she retorted hotly, "I didn't…"

"Didn't do what?" Chakotay's voice suddenly interrupted harshly from behind, much to the shock of the two women.

"Chakotay…" Seven began shakily, "You should be in the hospital, your wound…"

"Will still heal." Chakotay finished coldly as Seven nervously stopped her automatic move to go to him. "First I need to know what you've been hiding from me."

"Chakotay…" B'Elanna tried to intervene in a calming tone.

"Leave us alone for now B'Elanna." He ordered sharply, his soft, deep voice injected with such force that even her Klingon spirit quailed and she paused only for a moment before obeying. Chakotay's eyes followed her retreating back before regarding Seven again, "So, do you finally want to explain how you got those codes?" he asked, his tone so harsh that Seven winced.

"Yes." She whispered with a tiny, contrite nod. "The situation was…dire." She began heavily, "We were on the brink of being discovered, only the codes held by Gul Ishek would exempt us from being boarded, and most likely killed, by the Cardassians." She took a deep breath as Chakotay nodded, watching her intently, "Dalton had once informed me that women…of a certain type are not acknowledged by the security on Terok Din, they are allowed to move around as they please. It seemed to be the only way in. By using that story I managed to gain entry to Ishek's office, I was going to download the codes from his console and return to the Valjean…" She halted, her whole body shaking, "I did not expect to meet Ishek, I thought he'd be at his post after the damage caused by the plasma storm…" Chakotay snorted despite feeling an involuntary shudder passing through him as he sensed the crux of the story, "But he entered unexpectedly, he believed the deception and attempted to assault me." Seven swallowed, not daring to look up at Chakotay's face, "Thankfully, he was distracted and left me, then I was able to get the codes…"

She was surprised by the feeling of Chakotay's warm heavy breathing near her, he'd reached her side within a few strides despite his injury and now gripped her forearm tightly, forcing her gaze up to meet his heated one. "I can't believe you did something so reckless, so stupid…" He muttered, almost to himself.

Despite knowing she deserved the censure, Seven still wanted to explain herself. "I believed my actions were necessary to save the crew…"

"I don't care if you thought you were saving the Sacred Spirits!" Chakotay exclaimed angrily, almost shouting. "He could have _raped_ you, he had the opportunity, or worse _killed _you!" When Seven didn't immediately respond, he continued thoughtlessly, rubbing a frustrated hand over his damp brow, "How can you still be so naïve Seven? I'm supposed to be able to trust your judgement…"

His last words stung despite her guilt and Seven wrenched herself away from him. "I did what I thought was necessary and right, you were _dying_, was I supposed to just allow that to happen?"

"No, but…" Chakotay started, rendered flustered by her retort, but soon his anger, fuelled by fear and a sense of betrayal, reasserted itself. "Didn't you ever think about what would've happened if they'd captured you? The Cardassians having access to your implants could lead to them ruling the Quadrant…"

Seven stiffened, her hurt, guilty exterior replaced by one of icy stoicism. "Yes, the Cardassians would covet me for my implants, but obviously the Maquis share that motive." She replied, her clear, sharp voice cutting through the still air, "I'm sure your standing in the movement would be damaged if you allowed the Cardassians to take a valuable being like a former drone."

Chakotay flinched as if she'd slapped him as the meaning of her statement sank in. "I didn't mean it like that! You _know _that isn't how it is…" His voice was shaking with the feelings of offence and hurt now flowing strongly through him.

"Do I?" Seven questioned challengingly, her eyes glistening as he fell into a stunned silence, "Logan was right." She murmured to herself.

"What has _he _ got to do with this?" Chakotay snapped, the idea of Logan in relation to Seven hitting an unacknowledged nerve as always.

"I've waited too long for you to regain a sense of perspective in your life." She muttered cryptically before turning on her heel and stalking out of the room, shoulders shaking.

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	36. The Paris Mercenary

**A/n: This chapter is dedicated to Sweetdeath04, who's been helping me with my writing a lot, but especially with this fic. Thanks! :)**

Nathaniel Harrow cleared his throat nervously as Chakotay stalked onto the Bridge, standing stiffly by his command chair without sitting in it, the Valjean crew had all noticed recently that he avoided sitting in that chair. In fact, they'd been noticing a lot of things in the past month, ever since they'd escaped from Terok Din. The change that had affected them all was the tension that now filled the Bridge, or anywhere their commander went, so thick that a knife slicing through it wouldn't have dispersed it. His mood had darkened and although Terok Din had undoubtedly taken its toll on him as well as every one of them, that wasn't the most popular theory accounting for his suddenly brittle temper. Whatever was troubling Chakotay though, wasn't dragging down their performance as a Maquis unit, after repairs had been completed this month had seen some of their most effective strikes against the Cardassians and the Federation alike, but the same couldn't said of the crew's morale. Where easy camaraderie and a supportive atmosphere had once existed, drawing them all together, presently conversation was stilted and nerves were under constant siege by an unvoiced strain.

Nathaniel coughed when Chakotay regarded them all silently, his sleepless eyes lost deep in thought. Several of his fellow crewmembers glared at him disapprovingly, fearing that one of the eggshells they were walking on might be broken, but Nathaniel felt oppressed by this unnatural silence. However, it was the relentlessly optimistic Chell, guileless as ever, who actually spoke up. "What are our orders now Chakotay?" he asked pleasantly.

Chakotay's hand moved to his face as he sighed, tempted to rub his eyes, but his professionalism kicked in. "We've to go to Neliki IV to recruit a new pilot, apparently there are a few skilled men there who are sympathetic to our cause."

"But I think you and Mr Tuvok are doing a great job piloting the ship!" Celes piped up enthusiastically.

"Obviously the Maquis leaders don't think so." Seska remarked drily from the back of the Bridge. If the tiny Briefing Room they had always used previously hadn't had its electrics knocked out back at Terok Din, Chakotay would've taken this meeting in there and locked Seska out, but as it was the Bridge, with its free access, would have to do.

He saw Celes blush in mortification and smiled at her reassuringly. For a moment everyone saw a glimpse of the old Chakotay. "Thanks for saying so Celes but Tuvok and I actually agree with this order, we'll need a truly professional pilot to get us anywhere near Deep Space Eleven's satellite station."

B'Elanna took in a sharp breath. "They want us to attack that new armoury? They'll have ships patrolling that surely? It's deep into Federation space."

"That is precisely why we require a skilled covert pilot." Tuvok pointed out.

There was a short pause before Seven's, level, detached voice was heard. "Either way, we cannot ignore that installation. According to messages that I've decrypted between Deep Space Eleven and Starfleet Headquarters, those weapons will be shared with the Cardassians to suppress the Maquis. We cannot allow that, these weapons are so volatile they must be kept adrift of the main station."

"Seven's right." Chakotay said softly, his serious gaze taking in everyone else while skipping quickly over Seven herself. "This could be our most vital assignment yet." He breathed another sigh as he read the apprehensive expressions around him, "But let's not worry about that right now, we need to get that pilot first."

"Yes sir." They chorused quietly, many noting that Seven didn't join them, already moving towards the door. That was another sudden change that had occurred in the past month, the palpable strain between Chakotay and Seven. Their relationship wasn't infused with the sparking animosity that now characterised the one between Chakotay and Seska, but it was drifting into skilful avoidance and even indifference, which was much more unsettling for observers than a little bad blood between former flames. Whatever their initial impressions, and feelings, towards the ex-drone had been, all of the crew had had to accept her inclusion as a condition of their own. They'd grown used to the fact that she was Chakotay's constant shadow, and he her guide. Everything indicated that they had been happy that way, but now something had pulled them drastically apart. Just now, Chakotay had religiously avoided looking at her, when previously he'd always at least glanced at her every so often even when talking to others, as if checking on her. Seven was displaying similar behaviour. She'd never been talkative, but now even the enquiring blunt questions she'd always been confident to ask Chakotay went unsaid, she stuck to facts even more strictly than Tuvok.

"B'Elanna, get back down to Engineering. We'll need a minimum of warp six to get to Neliki IV in reasonable time." Chakotay ordered distractedly.

"Understood." B'Elanna replied in a business like tone, "Chell, Celes, with me."

The Bolian and Bajoran obediently joined her to walk to Engineering, but predictably Chell couldn't make the short journey without filling it with chatter. "I think Chakotay must be feeling his break up with Seska more each day, his mood just seems to get worse…"

"You think so?" Celes asked curiously, "I heard _he _broke up with Seska."

Chell's blue chin wobbled doubtfully, "I thought so too but I'm not sure anymore. What else can it be? Even stoic Seven can't seem to handle him anymore…"

"We're supposed to be concentrating on how to maximise our decrepit old warp engine, not analysing Chakotay's love life!" B'Elanna interrupted irritably as she forced open the aged, stiff door to Engineering.

Celes was suitably chastened to fall quiet, but Chell couldn't quite let go. "Do you know something B'Elanna?"

B'Elanna inhaled sharply to curtail her exasperation as she met Chell's innocently open gaze, "All I know is that Seska is just a needle in a haystack of his issues and it's not our job to try to sort through them. Now get to work!"

* * *

><p>Seven hovered in the Bridge despite her desire to remove herself from Chakotay's presence as quickly as possible, an irrational need that had developed exponentially since the aftermath of Terok Din. A large part of her wanted to resist the feelings that still stubbornly lingered, the hurt, guilt and anger, but every time she attempted to forget what had happened the memories returned with fresh clarity. The disgust and fear she'd had to repress as Ishek touched her, the pain she'd experienced as Chakotay lashed out at her, the guilt and regret than ran through her as she'd passionately retaliated… She'd gradually come to the conclusion that she couldn't get over it and Chakotay certainly wasn't showing her any signs that he could either.<p>

Chakotay watched her stiff posture from behind as he watched her stand indecisively by the doorway. A lump rose in his throat for a moment but he swallowed it down hard, gripping the edge of the console he was leaning on. "What are you planning to do Seven?" he eventually asked, chilled by the ice in his tone as much as she was.

"I could be useful in Engineering but I doubt B'Elanna would consider my presence there helpful." Seven replied without turning to look at him. "I could attempt to hack into the Federation comm. traffic again if you wish." She suggested awkwardly with a glance towards her Bridge console.

Chakotay took a deep breath as she looked at him, shaken by her resolutely impassive expression. It had been a long time since he couldn't read at least a flicker of some sort of emotion on her face. "I think that's a good idea." He agreed slowly.

Seven nodded sharply, surprising Chakotay by coming a few steps closer to him. "I presume you do not wish me to come with you to find this pilot?" she questioned, her tone hard.

"No!" Chakotay said vehemently, "You're staying here!"

Seven couldn't stop herself from gulping, stung by the hot flare in his eyes as he responded, staring straight at her for the first time in days. "Fine." She conceded curtly, immediately striding over to her console and burying her head in her work.

Seven, in reality, misread his reasoning and feelings. It wasn't really a need to punish which made Chakotay confine Seven to the ship, although he still felt that toxic mix of frustration and guilt when he brooded over what had happened with her, it was fear. In the first days following the events at Terok Din, he'd been reluctant to let anyone off the ship; worry at getting someone killed consuming him. He'd let this got for the majority of the crew as they returned to their Maquis duties but relating to Seven this anxiety only seemed to be intensifying with time. Right now, the thought the thought of her leaving the ship at all wracked him with an icy nausea he couldn't rationalise. In tandem with his growing protectiveness of his crew, Chakotay's recklessness concerning his own life had also grown. He didn't see this as necessarily a bad thing, he got a lot more done this way and had even been praised for his bravery, but he knew what Seven would think of it without asking. That was the factor that was prolonging their shared misery, they both longed for the trust and confidence they'd always shared with each other, but were mourning it rather than trying to bring it back to life.

* * *

><p>When Chakotay walked into the bar he'd been directed to in the main settlement on Neliki IV, he nearly walked straight back out again. He didn't believe the sort of people he'd want in his crew, no matter how desperate he was, would ever frequent a place like this. It was defiantly seedy, on a planet which was desperate to shake its frontier image. The walls were thin and bowing, the ceiling so low that the smoke rising from the patrons' illegal cigarettes was sandwiched cloyingly between the dangling lights and the plates of greasy food served from a crumbling old replicator. There were a couple of dabo tables, with the obligatory group of scantily clad women around them, a bar that stretched the whole of one wall and a dingy pool table in the middle of it all. For a moment Chakotay remembered light-hearted pool games in the Cadets' Union building at the Academy, but those days felt like a lifetime ago, if he'd really lived them at all. His attention was drawn to the bar anyway, by his burly informant. "Over here!" he hissed. Chakotay didn't know his name and vice versa, it was better that way.<p>

"Where's my pilot?" he asked in hushed tones.

The man jabbed his thumb towards the far end of the bar. "Human, blonde and skinny. He calls himself Paris."

Chakotay couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising, in comparison to this particular man; almost anyone could be called "skinny". "Right, thanks." He muttered and plunged off towards the end of the bar, stopping abruptly when he was almost certain he'd found his mark. Paris, if that _was_ his name, looked around his age, early to mid twenties, tall and relatively well built with fair hair that seemed tousled as he bent over a large drink. Chakotay reluctantly slid onto the stool next to him, already regretting his decision to stay as he caught a strong whiff of synthehol. "Paris?" he asked curtly.

The man turned his head to look at him fully and Chakotay was surprised to see that his blue eyes were keen and appraising rather than clouded with drink. His confirmation was a smirk, "Thomas Eugene, but I only answer to Tom." He said drily. He sat up straight on the stool, studying Chakotay intently. "So you're the one who wants to hire a pilot?" He swirled his drink in its dull glass and waited for the other man's reaction.

Chakotay answered with a perfunctory nod, "That's right. My group needs another pilot."

"_Another _one?" Tom echoed, "I'm not into back seat flyers…"

"I'll be taking a step back from the comm." Chakotay assured him coolly, "But you'll still hear from me often enough."

"Right." Tom muttered. He couldn't quite believe this guy was a Maquis commander, he could tell they were probably around the same age. There was something about him though, battle had obviously hardened him, with the deadly serious, but weirdly calm vibe we was getting from him, as if he didn't care when he very clearly did. "So what's the pay like?" he remarked, only half-joking.

"You get everything to keep you alive and something better to do that sit around a hole like this." Chakotay answered tersely, the subject of payment, when the Maquis was a cause he served and believed in himself, hit a nerve.

Tom pretended to think about it. "Good enough." He said briskly, "It's not like I can fly legally anymore, Starfleet revoked my licence after a few…disagreements."

"You're doing this because of some grudge against a flight instructor?" Chakotay asked disbelievingly, "Do you know what you're signing up for? We need more loyalty than a mercenary with a grudge can give…" He started to walk away but Tom held him back.

Tom gave a bitter laugh. "You're not really going to tell me you're doing this entirely for a higher cause are you? The Maquis are all about revenge!"

"Paris, huh?" Chakotay mused darkly as Tom's barb sunk in, "You're not related to that Admiral are you?"

Tom flinched, although he tried to hide it. "For your information, I disagree with the Cardassian occupation as much as any one of you, as for my other reasons, if there were any, they're none of your business, any more than yours are mine! You _do _need a pilot don't you, whether he's a mercenary or a saint?"

Chakotay began to pull him towards the doorway, his frown deep and bitter with foreboding. "Let's go."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D This chapter was difficult and it'll be my last update of anything for at least a few days until I get settled at uni. (Unless I get a break in my packing tomorrow which is unlikely, lol) It'll probably be next week some time, please stick with me! :)**


	37. Social Friction

"So where's this ship you dragged me out here to pilot?" Tom shouted to Chakotay over the bullying winds that regularly battered this part of Neliki IV. As he squinted to follow Chakotay's brusque indicating wave through the dust being blown up in his face, he sincerely wished he'd stayed cocooned in the warm, heady atmosphere of the bar. "What's her name?" he asked his guide hurriedly in an attempt to cover up his wince at he saw the shape his new berth was in.

"The Valjean." Chakotay answered as he began to plough through the stormy conditions towards his ship, not even pausing in his long, deliberate strides to give Tom his answer.

Thankfully Tom was just as tall and athletic as he was and kept up relatively easily, although with a less tolerant attitude to the weather. "As in "Les Miserables"?" he muttered incredulously. He caught Chakotay glancing at him with undisguised surprise, as if he couldn't quite believe Tom could read, and his frown deepened. He'd given up on Starfleet to escape such patronising attitudes and it seemed he'd just voluntarily placed himself under the command of someone who held onto those ideas as tightly as any Admiral, just his luck. "I know a lot about France, lived there for a while, my name is Paris after all." He explained jokingly, although his gaze was sharp. "Isn't it a little pretentious of your group to compare yourselves to French Revolutionaries?"

If this was supposed to be provocation, Chakotay didn't react. This man's ludicrously loose grip on the seriousness of the situation was grating on him more with every passing second. "Maybe." He remarked with a noncommittal shrug as they finally neared the Valjean's door and he opened it with his code. "It was Nathaniel Harrow who suggested the name, take it up with him."

"Maybe I will." Tom retorted airily, grunting with effort as he tried to climb inside the ship's narrow entrance hatch. It irritated him to see Chakotay swing inside with practised ease, hardly waiting for him before heading off down what was obviously the main route to the Bridge. "Do I have to sleep in my pilot's chair?" he muttered as he rubbed his bruised backside where he'd banged it while trying to get into this godforsaken ship.

A dry smirk passed across Chakotay's lips, at this moment seeing that would have given him a much needed laugh. "You'll be assigned a bunk later; we all have to share quarters here."

"Goody, it'll be like boarding school all over again." Tom replied in the same tone, a comment Chakotay didn't bother to respond to as they entered the Bridge.

"This is Tom Paris, our new pilot." Chakotay announced, raising his hand to stop the clamour of curious whispers that rose up around the room. "As soon as we've finished taking on supplies he'll be flying us to Deep Space 11, alright?" He was relieved to see his crew's heads nodding in approval, even Seska, but the calm that had come on him upon having everything settled and in control was short-lived as Tuvok appeared at his shoulder. "What is it Tuvok?"

"We have just received a comm. message from Kenharan at main base." Tuvok reported without beating around the bush.

"Kenha…" Chakotay started in shock before stopping himself. He hadn't heard from the man who'd originally recruited him in months, but considering how far the older man had climbed up the command ladder in that time his silence wasn't really surprising. It had to be significant that he was being contacted now. "I'll take the message in my quarters." He answered quickly with a glance around the busy Bridge; he couldn't risk everyone hearing it right away in case it was bad news. "Come with me." He ordered Tuvok, who nodded sagely in agreement. Without thinking he looked around for Seven, who predictably hadn't been distracted from her work in the least by Paris' arrival. He considered asking for her to join them, but irritably shook the impulse off and turned back towards the doorway.

"Wait a minute…" Tom grabbed Tuvok's arm as both Chakotay and the Vulcan moved away from him. "Do I know you?" he asked, studying Tuvok's implacable features intently.

"I do not believe we have met." Tuvok replied smoothly, his expression stoically unreadable, "I am Tuvok, the Tactical Officer for this Maquis unit."

"Tactical? That's good to know." Tom told him politely, letting him shrug off his grip before he left with Chakotay. Although the name Tuvok didn't ring any particular bells with him, there was something about his face… He must've seen him somewhere, maybe even at one of his father's Starfleet parties, since the Vulcan had used terminology which was the norm in Starfleet rather than what he assumed was normal in the Maquis. It wasn't wholly improbable that he was an ex-officer, disillusioned Starfleet recruits seemed to make up a large portion of the Maquis' intake, but there weren't many Vulcans who'd see real logic in betraying the Federation…

The sight of the pilot controls, _his _pilot controls, soon distracted Tom from all else and he moved eagerly through the Bridge to assess them. It made him grin to think of flying again, losing himself in the least complicated part of his mind where directing a ship was as natural as breathing. "You'd better be careful at first." A new voice cautioned, "The circuits in helm control were fried during our last skirmish. B'Elanna will kill anyone who asks her to replace them a third time."

Tom met the speaker's gaze questioningly, "B'Elanna?"

"Our Chief Engineer." The young human male answered, clutching a tricorder in one hand and a PADD in the other. "She's half-Klingon, so don't get on the wrong side of her."

Tom patted the helm controls affectionately, like a loyal dog. "Don't worry, she'll love me. I treat all my ships with the devotion they deserve." The young man laughed good-naturedly and Tom hazarded a guess, "Nathaniel, right?"

"How'd you know?" Nathaniel asked in surprise.

Tom indicated the PADD Nathaniel was holding, "It's not everyday someone reads "Catch 22" between tricorder scans. Chakotay told me you named this ship, so I thought you'd be a bookworm."

Nathaniel coloured a little, "Good guess." He chuckled.

"Yeah…" Tom began to reply languidly as he scanned the faces of everyone on the Bridge, giving a particularly shy Bajoran girl a teasing wink in passing before his eyes fell on a blonde, who, unlike the others had not lifted her gaze to watch him as the others had. That out of place behaviour, as well as her looks, he could see even with his view of her obscured by the console that she had an amazing figure, was enough to make him head towards her first. "Hi, I'm Tom." He introduced himself warmly.

His interruption was enough to finally make her look up, and he couldn't stop a small gasp from leaving his throat as he now saw what made her stand out. She was obviously human, and yet starkly not. Metal protruded from her porcelain skin as if she'd been randomly broken and crudely stitched back together. "You…" He started, for once in his life entirely unsure what to say.

"I was Borg." She stated, so seemingly unperturbed by his reaction to her that he had to sadly assume that she'd expected it. "I was freed from the Collective." She added hurriedly when her first explanation didn't bring words to his lips. "You need not fear me; I am no danger to you."

Tom recovered his wits as he heard a trace of resignation in her otherwise carefully detached, even slightly robotic, voice. "Are people normally scared of you?" he asked gently, genuinely curious. Now that he had gotten over the initial shock of her appearance his natural ease with people was reasserting itself. Looking at her again, he wasn't really afraid at all, even noticing that she was younger than him despite her deceptively stoic expression.

She seemed taken aback by the question, her unnervingly direct gaze wavering. "Yes…" She murmured uncertainly, "People are right to be afraid of the Borg."

"But you're not Borg anymore?" Tom prompted, smiling at her reassuringly as she shook her head, "I didn't think so."

Her eyebrows arched high, amusement entering her eyes. "Really?" She fell silent for a moment as he laughed awkwardly, "I am Seven of Nine. Within this crew I am generally known as Seven."

Tom extended his hand, wincing in pity for an instant as she cautiously gave him her hand, which was entirely enclosed within an implant much more intricate and extreme than, thankfully, any on her otherwise beautiful face were. "It's nice to meet you Seven, I'm Tom."

"So you said before." Seven remarked coolly, her gaze drifting down to her work again as Tom struggled to rein in his questions.

"Does it _bother _you that people react to you, well, the way I did?" he asked uneasily, deciding that it would be crossing a line to ask her directly about her assimilation, although he had a feeling this unusual young woman would answer him just as directly. To be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"If you are asking me if you have offended me, you have not." Seven answered bluntly, "Your reaction was restrained, but since I expect people to dislike the Borg, then no, it does not "bother" me."

Tom wasn't sure what he'd expected her to say, but it hadn't been such a simple dismissal of others as that. Her tiny sigh at the end though, told him she wasn't being entirely honest. "Well, I'd just like to make it clear that your past doesn't matter to me at all. I'd certainly like that to be true for my past too."

Seven nodded obligingly, giving him a small smile. "That would be very acceptable Tom."

Tom grinned at her, pleased with himself for chipping away at her cold exterior. "Good."

"Shouldn't you be familiarising yourself with the helm Paris?" Chakotay's terse voice echoed from behind him, his muttered conversation with Tuvok stopping abruptly in mid flow as he spotted his new pilot hanging around Seven.

Tom turned to face him unconcernedly, "I had just come to this console to get some details on our flight plan, right Seven?"

Seven immediately dialled a command into her console and a map etched with a flight plan appeared on the screen. "Here is our flight plan for you to study Mr Paris." She offered innocently.

"Thanks Seven." Tom said gratefully, turning his back on Chakotay and leaning over the console. Despite hearing Chakotay start talking quietly to Tuvok again, Tom could feel warning vibes coming from the other man, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as he sensed Chakotay's glaring eyes on him. It had been long standing joke among his set of friends at the Academy that he had "boyfriend radar" when talking to women and that sixth sense was kicking in now. "What's the deal with you and Chakotay?" he asked Seven quietly.

"Deal?" she echoed quizzically before cottoning on, "He and his family were the ones who freed me from the Collective." She explained.

Tom frowned thoughtfully, doubting that was the full story. "So he's…protective of you then?" he asked carefully.

Seven visibly stiffened, a strange look passing over her face as her eyes narrowed. "I suppose you could say that." She murmured, almost inaudibly, through tightly pressed lips before stepping firmly back from the console and directing her attention to another set of scans.

Tom knew he'd made a misstep. "Can you tell me where Engineering is? I need to introduce myself to the engineers who'll be keeping my ship in the air for me to fly."

Tom wasn't sure if he was imagining it but he thought he saw Seven relax slightly when he changed the subject. "Walk 200 metres down the hall, turn left and go down the ladder." She instructed precisely.

"Right, thanks." Tom replied before quickly leaving the Bridge and following her directions to Engineering. The space was busy and hectic, but he could see one diminutive, commanding figure coordinating all of the activity. "I'm looking for B'Elanna?" he asked over the din, although as he caught sight of the fine cranial ridges arching over her stunning brown eyes he suspected he'd already found her.

"You call me Torres until I know who you are." She told him sharply as she watched him take her in. "And you are?" she prodded when he didn't pick up on the hint.

"I'm your new pilot, Tom Paris at your service." He introduced himself with what he thought of as his most charming smile.

B'Elanna didn't seem affected though, "So you're Paris. Chakotay told me about you…"

"From your tone I'm guessing it wasn't all good!" Tom said with a weak laugh.

She smirked at him, "That would be an understatement." She answered dryly before walking off towards a wall console. Tom followed her without missing a beat.

"So, what brought you here…" He began, leaning an elbow against the screen she was peering at, which she promptly pushed aside.

"What brought everyone else here, except maybe you, the destruction of their homes." B'Elanna answered hotly, glaring at him when her abrasive manner didn't make him run straight away. "Look, I don't have time for small talk right now, so unless there's something wrong with helm control…"

"Oh, the helm's working great, from what I can see, something of a miracle on a tin can like this." He responded smoothly, continuing before she could voice a snappy retort, "Which from what I understand, is completely due to your handiwork. I was so intrigued I wanted to meet you…"

B'Elanna stared up at him disbelievingly, "Out of all the people on this ship, _I'm _the one who "intrigues" you the most?"

"Oh, undoubtedly." Tom murmured sweetly, "And why not? The pilot of a ship and its engineer should by rights be best friends if they want everything to go their way."

B'Elanna snorted loudly, "Dream on flyboy!" With that she snapped the toolbox at her feet shut and turned her back on him sharply, abandoning Tom in the middle of Engineering.

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D **


	38. Distant Promises

**A/n: I was going to write more of "Their Human Errors" but inspiration for this hit me like a bus, lol. Enjoy! :)**

Kenharan smiled warmly at Chakotay in greeting as the younger man entered his makeshift command base. "You've found a good pilot, most crews who come here need to be guided through the nebula's interference by one of own pilots in a shuttle."

"Paris being a decent pilot is the only reason I've kept him on so far, he doesn't exactly have high standards in anything else." Chakotay replied disparagingly, his stance stiff as he studied his surroundings intently. "I never thought any of the planets in the Badlands would be habitable, let alone this pleasant." He commented admiringly.

"The Federation never seems to have thought so either, that's why we've moved here." Kenharan explained, gesturing at the wooden hut they stood in as well as the few, slightly more high tech buildings dotted around the grassy plain. "It's a work in process at the moment, but our people have always lived out on the frontier. This world is unique, the atmosphere is thick and stable enough to hold the hell that is the Badlands at bay." He chuckled bitterly, "Did you know that the Cardassians once suggested that all of the Federation colonists move here?" He sighed heavily as he sat down on the least rickety of the hut's salvaged chairs. "I almost wish we'd listened, if it wasn't so laughable, it would have saved a lot of blood from being shed."

"It never would have worked." Chakotay declared firmly, "The nebula around this planet may serve to hide us but for a civilian settlement being at the end of such an impassable route would kill it, which is what the Cardassians would've wanted."

His statement made a fair point, a justified one even, but Kenharan couldn't quite accept it. Perhaps it was the way he said it, in that jaded, resentful tone, that had caught him off-guard. Before now, when he'd spoken to Chakotay, the upright young man, however determined, had always had a sense of perspective, the knowledge that all of the Maquis would rather be living peaceful lives that this fraught existence, but Kenharan could now clearly see, barely three minutes into this meeting, that Chakotay had lost sight of his purpose, his judgement was clouded, although by what exactly Kenharan couldn't tell. The reports that he'd been denying for weeks, that the heroically effective young leader was losing his grip, had been woefully confirmed. "I suppose you're right." He hedged in careful agreement.

Chakotay felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, hearing the resignation in the other man's voice and, though he could find no reason for it, disappointment shining from his eyes. "Why am I here Kenharan?" he asked bluntly, suddenly impatient to retreat back to the safety of the Valjean.

Kenharan seemed to refocus at his prompting his tone becoming almost business like. "As you've no doubt guessed for our abrupt relocation here, the threat to the Maquis is growing every day." He met Chakotay's worried gaze candidly, "Starfleet has at least tripled the resources they're using on us and it's starting to take a toll."

Chakotay nodded grimly, "I know. We heard about the attacks on our bases on Bemaris Prime and Dante II…"

"And Grolin III." Kenharan added sadly.

"Grolin III?" Chakotay echoed, shocked and horrified. "That was our most fortified base, second only to the command section on Ephus!"

"Precisely why we're starting to move everyone to the Badlands, but our bases in the Demilitarised Zone will be especially vulnerable while we're stockpiling for the relocation." Kenharan told him sharply, not pulling any punches as to the seriousness of the situation.

Chakotay's frown deepened even further as his intuition told him something wasn't right. "Wait, how could the Federation possibly know about all of those bases? We've always kept them completely separate for security reasons, there's no communication between them without several intermediaries!"

Kenharan flinched before an obviously well-practised stoicism made his face impassive. Chakotay shuddered as he realised the man, who wasn't yet 35, suddenly appeared at least twenty years older as he met Chakotay's gaze with an uncompromising directness. "We believe that Starfleet has formed a spy ring, not only around us using our contacts but an internal, deep cover, intelligence network."

Chakotay felt an icy chill run up his spine. Previously the Maquis had really attempted to keep the Federation, who'd betrayed them, as much out of the conflict as possible, perhaps out of some lingering form of loyalty, but now it seemed that the Federation he'd been born into, had served to the best of his ability for years, had firmly chosen the Cardassians over their own colonists."So that's it then?" he asked in a whisper, "Are they as much a target as the Cardassians are for us now?"

Kenharan closed his eyes, looking for an instant as if he never wanted to open them again. "Yes." He confirmed thickly.

Chakotay tried to latch onto something concrete, his emotions suddenly at sea. He'd held Starfleet and the Federation's bureaucracy in contempt for a long time, ever since he'd heard that fateful message of dismissal from them the day his homeworld had been wiped out, but he'd never really thought they'd come to the point where he'd be resisting the Federation, whose values he still fundamentally believed in, just as fiercely as he was fighting the Cardassian Empire. "You brought me here to check that I was still willing to do the raid on Deep Space Eleven?" he asked, "Don't worry, I'm even more determined to pull it off now…"

Kenharan shifted uncomfortably, for the first time unwilling to look Chakotay straight in the eye. "No, on the contrary Chakotay, we want to reassign that mission."

Chakotay sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment. "What?" he breathed. He saw Kenharan nod confirmation of what he'd said and that triggered an explosion within him. "_Why_?"

Kenharan was unmoved by the violence in Chakotay's reaction, saying carefully, "We've heard that all that you've been through has taken its toll on you and your crew…"

Chakotay grimaced angrily, "It seems it's not only Starfleet that deploys spies." He remarked harshly, lurching up from his seat, "What are you going to do, tell me to complete a purifying ritual, do a vision quest to fix everything?" he snapped, sarcasm scorching the words.

Kenharan regarded the damaged youth in front of him levelly, "If it would help." He replied quietly.

Chakotay's rage ebbed slightly as he saw sadness and understanding in Kenharan's eyes. "It wouldn't." He said lifelessly, "Besides, you _need_ my crew to do that mission. You'll never get another person that can decrypt their codes like Seven can, and you just said my pilot is one of the best." He took a deep, rational breath, "The Deep Space Eleven mission is the perfect distraction to keep Starfleet away while our bases are being moved out here."

Kenharan's lips twisted wryly, "I thought you might say something like that, I'll make your point with the other leaders." He sighed and gave Chakotay a warning look, "It was really a good offer Chakotay, one you should have taken. Your crew has become a victim of its own success, the Valjean is the most wanted vessel in the Quadrant and every Starfleet Captain knows your face." He laid a hand on Chakotay's shoulder, "Take a step back, for your own sake."

Chakotay glanced down at the hand on his shoulder, his face betraying confusion for a moment before he answered with a curt nod of acknowledgement and left the hut as quickly as he could.

* * *

><p>Tuvok watched the scene playing out in front of him, mildly diverted by the antics of his fellow crewmates as he ceased his meditation and glanced up to hear B'Elanna's angry shrieks as Tom Paris playfully taunted her at the edge of the lake they were both swimming in, the hectic nebula of the Badlands, obscured by atmosphere, just visible in the sky above them. Many crewmembers had taken advantage of the Valjean's pleasant landing spot, and Chakotay's absence, to engage in recreational activities from games to sunbathing. A pensive sigh nearby caught his attention though, and he noticed Seven of Nine sitting on the grass, watching events intently. "You do not wish to engage in recreation with the others?" he asked politely.<p>

Seven shot him a sidelong glance, wondering if the Vulcan was displaying curiosity, which wouldn't exactly be logical. "Recreation is irrelevant at this time." She replied, indicating the pile of PADDs spread out around her, which, unfortunately for her, Tuvok was perfectly aware she had not touched for several minutes. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Chakotay striding powerfully away from the camp and then flopping down on the grass several metres away from the rest of the crew. A worried gasp left her throat before she could stop it and Tuvok pounced on it.

"If you wish to discover what is troubling Chakotay Seven, the most logical course of action would be to ask him."

Seven could only summon up a small glare that quickly faded as she realised he was right. Unlike the rest of the crew, who seemed to disregard logic easily, she had an affinity for it almost as naturally as a Vulcan. "Your point is valid." She replied begrudgingly. Slowly, with Tuvok's keen eyes on her, she stood up and made her way closer to Chakotay. She still felt uncertain enough about the current state of their relationship to sit down on the grass more than half a metre away from the patch on which he lay.

Chakotay had, of course, noticed her approach, and waited, naively considering how well he knew her, for her to speak first. When they had remained in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, something today at least he couldn't bear, he finally broke the silence with the first random thing that popped into his head. "I thought you liked swimming, why aren't you joining in with the others?"

Seven's eyebrow arched curiously, and she leaned forward, arms around her knees, to peer at him. "Why do you believe I like swimming?"

"Well, you saved Lucky that time, and then I saw you with Sekaya…" Seeing both of her expressive eyebrows fly up her forehead in surprise, he groped around for an explanation. "When Sekaya used to take you to the pond with her friends when it was hot, the guys from school used to watch you all." His cheeks heated up like they hadn't in years when he realised how that sounded, "I…I would follow them to check they didn't see anything or jump any of you…"

Seven stopped him before he embarrassed himself even further by offering a brief nod of acceptance, although she knew she hadn't hidden her smirk well enough when he uttered a self-deprecating laugh. That sound seemed to break the ice that separated them and for the first time in weeks she felt able to breathe around him. "What did Kenharan say?" she asked softly, only now looking him fully in the eye.

"He's worried about security, Starfleet is really onto us now." He replied shortly.

"That was to be anticipated, eventually." Seven told him without emotion, "That is not truly what is bothering you."

Chakotay exhaled through his teeth, wondering why he was so transparent to this girl who rarely fully understood her own feelings. "No, it's not." He admitted, "Kenharan wanted to pull us, me specifically, off the Deep Space Eleven mission."

"You did not agree?" Seven guessed.

"Hell no!" He snapped, stopping as he realised his hands were shaking. Was he really the wreck Kenharan had depicted? Tellingly, he already knew the answer. "I managed to convince him otherwise."

He saw pain flicker across Seven's eyes and knew at once that wasn't what she'd wanted him to say. He wasn't even sure if he wanted that to be the case anymore… He heaved a deep sigh as he remembered his violent reaction to Kenharan's concern, it had brought back vivid memories of his father's teachings that had been haunting him since the incident on Terok Din. "Seven, do…do you think my father would understand what we're doing?"

Seven's eyes became distant and she bit her lip as she regarded him. "I think he understood many things." She answered quietly.

Chakotay dug his hands in his hair, ready to tear it out. "That doesn't mean he _agreed_ with it all." He forced out brokenly, "I've always told myself, since the day he died, that they all died, that they'd understand, that they knew they'd need to be avenged, but…" His voice gave out and when Seven slid across the grass to sit next to him he let himself sag for a moment against her slender frame.

"I suppose we'll never know." She murmured over the top of his head as he bent over her, "We can only use our own judgement."

Chakotay blinked, sitting up again as new resolve hit him. "Kenharan says our group is becoming too well known, to the point where it's a liability, they'd let us go, at least for a little while." He took a deep, ponderous breath, "After this mission, we'll split up, get the ship repaired properly maybe. The two of us can lie low somewhere until that judgement you say we have kicks in."

Seven stared at him, hope lifting her and twisting her guts with new anxiety at the same time. "Really Chakotay?" she whispered, a painful lump of relief forming in her throat as he nodded heavily. He looked so drained, so utterly defeated, that she felt intensely guilty for being glad, but that didn't stop her from putting her arms lightly around his quaking body in a tentative hug.

**A/n: I **_**really **_**hope you like where I'm going with this, especially characterisation wise, is it realistic? I have a feeling that you'll all be pleased about the reconciliation whatever else happened in the chapter… ;) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	39. Inside Information

**A/n: This chapter is for Jedi Master Misty Sman-Esay, who has allowed me to write her OC character Rhianna into this story, thanks Jedi! :)**

"Chakotay…" Chakotay stopped midway up the Valjean's steps as he heard Kenharan and felt the older man's restraining hand on his arm, "Wait a moment, you've been assigned a new crewmember."

Chakotay tried to smooth out his incredulous frown as he met Kenharan's serious eyes. "A new crewmember? Kenharan, I've barely had time to prepare my seasoned crew for this mission…"

Regret clouded Kenharan's face as he gave a nod of acknowledgement, but it was soon hard with the determination of someone used to having his orders obeyed. "I realise that Chakotay, but this person will serve you well."

Chakotay's eyes scanned the grassy field around the Valjean for someone unknown to him but could see no one that was obviously new. He bit back a dissatisfied sigh but Seven, who had just looked out of the Valjean to see what was delaying him, heard it and frowned at him questioningly. Looking at the impatience now brooding on Kenharan's face he realised he wasn't going to win this one and waved Seven back into the ship. "Go and prepare for leaving." He told her firmly, "Kenharan just has something else he needs to discuss with me."

Seven wordlessly ducked her head to disappear back into the ship, but she couldn't help shooting Kenharan an uneasy glance with her lowered eyes, the effect on Chakotay of his last conversation with him had been dramatic and she didn't want a return to that turmoil, even if coming partially out of the other side of it had given Chakotay badly needed perspective.

Chakotay watched her go before turning his attention fully back to Kenharan, "So where is this new crewmember then? We can't afford to delay leaving any longer if we want to launch an attack on Deep Space Eleven while that weapons cache is still there. Seven just decoded a message saying…"

Kenharan held up his hand to stop him. "I have access to all of our intel Chakotay, according to our sources the weapons won't be shared with the Cardassians for at least another week; you have time for this mission." Relief only lingered on Chakotay's face for a few seconds before, like any natural leader, thoughts about what the next threat would be lined his young face. Kenharan smiled reassuringly, "This new crewmember won't delay you though, she's right here." He twisted his head over his shoulder and called, "Rhianna!"

As a tall, slender figure broke away from the group bunched behind Kenharan and moved towards them, Chakotay wondered why he hadn't noticed her before, she was certainly distinctive. Caytan ancestry was evident in her every movement, she was almost feline in her grace. A long tail, curled at the base, descended from the end of her spine, its glossy blue-black fur blending with the other, slightly lighter, patches of fur on her body. "Yes Kenharan?" she asked politely, Chakotay couldn't help but compare her voice to a purr.

Kenharan led her closer, "Rhianna, this is Chakotay, your commander for the foreseeable future."

"And for the Deep Space Eleven mission too?" Rhianna asked eagerly.

"Yes, of course." Kenharan answered, "The Valjean is just about to leave."

Rhianna gave Chakotay a bright smile, although he could see it was wobbly with nerves. "I got here just in time then." She said, her voice high-pitched.

"Yeah, you did." Chakotay agreed warmly, stepping down from the Valjean to stand level with this girl, who despite his earlier misgivings he liked already. "Like Kenharan said, I'm Chakotay, it's nice to meet you."

Rhianna extended her hand, dainty like a paw but otherwise very human in appearance. "Rhianna Anderson, former Starfleet cadet."

Chakotay was a little surprised until he realised how young she really was, at the most she looked twenty. She said "former" with enough vehemence to pique his interest but for now he left that topic alone. "Anderson? You're half human then?"

Rhianna nodded, "On my dad's side. My mom is…was Caytan."

Her eyes lit with anger even as her voice hitched with unresolved grief, and Chakotay knew he'd found part of the reason that Rhianna had joined the Maquis. "Your mom was in the demilitarised zone?" he asked sympathetically.

Her answer seemed to stick in her throat, the words slow and strained. "Yeah. She was on Dorvan III, testing her new designs on the planet's atmosphere…" She paused to explain, "She was a starship designer, Starfleet had her stationed there until the treaty. When Starfleet pulled out, Mom hung on, she said that Cardassians weren't going to disrupt her life's work, and then we heard that that entire system had been wiped out…"

Chakotay swallowed hard, squeezing her hand empathically. "I know." He murmured sorrowfully, "My homeworld was Dorvan V."

"I'm sorry." Rhianna whispered, feeling guilty for pouring out her story when this man in front of her had lost just as much, if not more.

Kenharan put a hand on both their shoulders. "Rhianna has been sent to help us by the Emperor of Cayta, one of our staunchest defenders in the Federation Council. He felt he needed a representative here with us. Look after her Chakotay."

"I will." Chakotay agreed readily, "But I don't understand, I thought Cayta was a constitutional monarchy, and the government is part of the Federation, so I don't see how he can sanction you…"

"My mother was part of the Royal House, the Emperor's first cousin!" Rhianna declared hotly, her nails extending to form sharp claws, "He cannot allow someone with royal blood to be so callously murdered! He may not be able to openly avenge her death and those of other Caytans on the Cardassians but he has ordered me to do so through the Maquis!" She took several small, shallow breaths as she struggled to calm herself, "I intend to obey him Chakotay, first by helping you to attack Deep Space Eleven. My mom was the chief designer of the new satellite station where the weapons are stored."

Chakotay smiled grimly as understanding dawned, Rhianna's inside knowledge would certainly be useful, but he couldn't help wondering if, like him, her need for revenge was being manipulated. "Then welcome abroad the Valjean Miss Anderson, Deep Space Eleven is exactly where we're headed."

* * *

><p>"So where exactly is this weapons cache I've heard so much about?" Tom asked from his central position at the pilot's console, his tone deceptively light-hearted as his frown deepened in concern. Deep Space Eleven looked just the same, from this viewpoint anyway, as any other Starfleet space station he'd ever visited, and being the son of an Admiral he'd probably seen them all. It hung protectively in orbit over the green and pleasant world of Moldora, ships of various sizes, from the mammoth Galaxy class starships to the smallest of shuttles, buzzed around the station's gleaming silver flanks like bees around a honey pot. It wasn't exactly bristling with weapons, not in the ostentatious "don't mess with me" style that Klingon and Cardassian stations were famous for, but still every piece intel they'd had for months now painted this place as Starfleet's most vital artillery route. His mind may have reiterated that fact over and over, but his heart continued to thump with dread and guilt, it just didn't sit right with him to attack somewhere as familiar and outwardly benign as a Federation station.<p>

"Refine your sensors to focus on concentrated fields of energy." Seven replied, "You should see the outline of a net of sensors, shields and defensive weapons. The power signature of the weapons depot is disguised."

Tom followed her instructions and gasped as he saw what she meant. "I see it now, but I also see a big problem…"

"Which is?" Chakotay asked in sharp curiosity, rising from his chair.

"The net has been closed too tight, there's no way the Valjean can slip through without being detected and destroyed, even using some of my less manufacturer recommended flight manoeuvres."

"What?" Chakotay sprinted forward and pushed Tom aside to look at the scans. "Damn it!" he cursed, slamming his hand against the console, "They must've gotten wind of our plan somehow and reconfigured security."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Nathaniel Harrow asked heavily as the whole Bridge fell deadly quiet, all silently wondering how such a leak could've happened.

"The risk factor for this mission has now increased beyond the realms of logic." Tuvok intoned, "Perhaps we should abandon it for the time being."

"And just leave the weapons there to be doled out to the Cardassians whenever they wave that treaty under Starfleet's nose?" B'Elanna retorted angrily, "No, we can't just leave without doing anything!"

Chakotay took a deep breath as he evaluated the faces of his crew around him. Although he could see that B'Elanna's words had hit home, he could also see torturous conflict filling many eyes as they stared out at the station in front of them, a benchmark of the Federation most of them had been raised to defend. "I know this is a difficult situation." He began carefully, "None of us came in to this wanting to hurt innocent people, we were born into the Federation and it hurts like hell to think on it but they turned their backs on _us_ years ago. B'Elanna's right, Starfleet won't hesitate to give out those weapons to the Cardassians or even use them on us themselves, we have to remember that." He leaned heavily on the console as he too stared out at the station, able to clearly visualise the civilians and children who would be living peacefully within. "I don't intend to bring civilians into this, _we _still have our principles." He announced, his voice thick with emotion. "We're only attacking the weapons depot, if we still can, not the station itself and we'll only defend ourselves from the ships if they try to stop us, understood?"

Acceptance, and even gratitude, radiated over his crew's faces. He knew how they felt, they already each carried enough guilt to last a lifetime. Even Seven and Tuvok, who both tended to put achieving the mission's goal above all else, nodded subtly in agreement and he smiled in relief. "Has anyone got a new plan about how we could knock this depot out?"

"I believe Rhianna and I may have thought of a possible plan Chakotay." Seven piped up in a level, matter of fact tone, "But it would be quite challenging to carry out."

Chakotay's lips twitched involuntarily, though there was no real humour to be found in this situation. Seven certainly had a gift for understatement, he knew whatever they had to do would be a great deal more than "challenging". "Let us hear it then." He ordered briskly.

It was Rhianna who spoke now, her voice calm but her tail quivering with apprehension. "The defence net has some blind spots. My mom tried to get rid of them all but it turned out to be impossible with current technology… Anyway, in theory a clear path could be wound through the net until you reach the depot."

"But the Valjean is too big to fit through the net at all." Nathanial pointed out pensively.

Seven opened her mouth to reply but Tom got in first, "But not for a shuttle, right?" he guessed, "Like the one we have prepped on board?"

"Precisely Mr Paris." Seven answered, "A shuttle could avoid the net and destroy the depot."

"If everything went our way!" B'Elanna interrupted, "We'd need to load the shuttle up with most of our remaining proton torpedoes to give it a chance of destroying the depot."

Seven shook her head, "I believe that I can hack the shields around the actual depot. The designers were dependent on the defence net and didn't make the hull shields as impenetrable. Three proton torpedoes at most will be enough. The dangerous part for the shuttle will be avoiding the massive explosion that will occur when the weapons with the depot are ignited."

Tom chuckled, "Flying out of the way actually sounds like the easier part, believe me Seven."

Chakotay felt his eyebrows rise at the pilot's tone. "You'd do it?" he asked doubtfully. Tom Paris had been making it clear that his commitment to the Maquis was temporary, certainly not to the death.

Tom breathed a dry, humourless laugh, almost bitter. "Who else do you have that could actually get away with their life afterwards?"

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	40. Misleading Truths

Tom's stomach strained violently in his abdomen as the shuttle's thrusters surged into life somewhere far behind his low set pilot's chair, unable to resist the sudden pummelling of the onset of high G force. Just as quickly as the sensation had come on him though, he felt himself relax into that same tattered chair, his fingers settling on the pilot controls with the practised grace of a concert pianist at his instrument. Sometimes it worried him, how much he thrived on the adrenaline rush of flying, it couldn't bode well for his chances of dying as an old man peaceful in bed, but he wasn't sure he wanted that as the engines calmed into a seductive hum, peace was overrated. He couldn't afford to shrink away from his usual fearlessness now, not when he'd just launched from the Valjean with his torpedo bays packed and was at this very moment ducking around the sensors of the ships huddled around the very installation he was about to attack. He'd certainly need to call on all of his natural born talents, every carefully honed skill he'd ever dedicated to flying to complete this mission of his successfully, and in his definition of success he including surviving the attempt, something Chakotay seemed to put a bit further down his list of priorities. He didn't much care what the other man, officially his boss, felt about all this, but he had to admit that it had disturbed him to see B'Elanna's doubtful eyes boring into him as she finally finished with the shuttle and retreated back to Engineering. Worry had been there in her eyes as she looked at him, concern even, it had been confirmed when, for once, she'd refused to rise to his teasing, treating him as seriously as she did the anointed Chakotay. His main incentive to get back from this was to see relief flicker, if only for an instant, over her beautiful dark eyes at the sight of him, and to hear her, no doubt begrudging, thanks.

Seven of Nine's clipped tones unapologetically interrupted his thoughts as his comm. link with the Valjean flared into life. "Mr Paris, you are approaching the defence net. Are you able to read it through your sensors?"

Tom, feeling as if he'd been caught out daydreaming by a strict teacher, hurriedly overlaid his sensor readings of the net onto the benign view of space presented by his viewscreen. Almost immediately, a patch of black and apparently featureless space a few thousand kilometres distant of Deep Space Eleven lit up like a Christmas pageant under the scrutiny of his scans, lasers crisscrossing to form a protective web around a rectangle several thousand kilometres square. "Don't worry; I'd have to be blind not to see it." He assured Seven after gulping away his awe, a little of the feeling escaping as a nervous chuckle, "Tell Rhianna her mom did an impressive job on this."

"You may compliment her when you return; this comm. time should not be wasted on irrelevant conversation." Seven replied sternly, "Do you see the path through the net to depot that we discovered earlier?"

Tom smiled to himself; he had a feeling that despite the chastisement in her words, Seven had been trying to comfort him in her own…unique way. She had spoken of his return as a certainty just when he'd begun to doubt it himself. So, he obliged her by focusing entirely on his target in front of him, feeling a rush of relief when he saw the first blind spot, exactly where Seven and Rhianna had calculated, at a point where the sensors didn't quite mesh. "It's there alright." He confirmed, urging the shuttle rapidly forward with ease even while talking. "I'm going for it." Of course, there was always the chance that this hole in the net was the only one and he'd be trapped like a fish in barrel, but he decided not to think on that as he directed the shuttle straight for his goal, hoping to bolt through before anyone noticed, that would start this off easy.

At first, it almost seemed too simple. Under his quick manipulations the shuttle slipped smoothly through the first layer of defences before making a beeline for the hole in the second layer too and squeezing through that before any of the ships around the station even seemed to realise anything was amiss. He saw at once however, when he looked at the last bastion of sensitive sensors, that his luck wasn't going to hold. The gap was so narrow he'd need to flip the shuttle sideways and fly through it fully vertical. Even then, despite his dedication to optimism in these situations, he knew he was bound to trigger something… Just then though, he saw it, the black beast of a space depot that he was supposed to bring down. It was unmistakably Cardassian in design and his blood boiled at the thought of Starfleet allowing such a thing to be protected by one of their installations. Well, it wouldn't be protected anymore. He swung the shuttle into a vertigo inducing half roll just in time to glide past the sensor net without as much as grazing it, almost laughing in relief as he eased the shuttle into clear space.

* * *

><p>"He made it?" Chakotay asked tersely, not daring to take his eyes off the small speck that was Tom's shuttle on the viewscreen, obscured though it was by first the sensor net then the looming hulk of the depot itself.<p>

"It would appear so." Tuvok responded cautiously, "The sensor net is not taking any defensive action."

"Shouldn't he be firing on the depot already?" B'Elanna remarked impatiently, "We can't risk hanging around here much longer, I've already put off the station officials twice, they'll be coming to investigate if we don't either dock or leave soon."

"He's to wait until I give the order to fire." Chakotay reminded her pointedly, though he himself was surprised that Paris had held off, "Then he'll know for sure he hasn't triggered anything." Seeing B'Elanna blush slightly, regretting her outburst, he turned to Seven, "Open the comm. to the shuttle please Seven."

Seven gave a brisk nod. "Comm. line is open." She reported with a calm he felt envious of.

"You ready to get firing those torpedoes Tom?" Chakotay asked his pilot down the crackling line.

"I've been ready for a while; you're too slow for this job Chakotay…" Tom started to answer in a deceptively jaunty tone before a loud rumble could be heard, then a volley of virile swear words from Tom.

"What happened?" Chakotay demanded, shouting down the comm. but looking around his other crewmembers for answers.

"I suggest you look at the viewscreen." Tuvok answered tightly.

Chakotay couldn't stop himself from staggering backwards slightly as he did as he was bid and looked again at the viewscreen. The depot itself was blazing out phaser fire and he could see that the brightly coloured blasts of deadly light were hitting the shuttle dead on even as Tom streaked to avoid them. "The depot itself is armed?" he asked in a low tone, his gut twisting into a knot of dread as the ships from the station sprang into life and began to swoop towards Tom like hunting falcons.

"Yes." Seven said, a small quiver now making itself heard in her voice, "Our intelligence made no mention of that and I failed to pick up the weapons on our sensors due to the defence net's interference." Her head bowed guiltily, "I apologise…"

Chakotay cut her off. "Now's not the time for that Seven, and none of the rest of us saw this coming either…"

A gasp from Celes interrupted him. "Look, Tom's still managing to fire the torpedoes!"

A second glance at the viewscreen proved what Celes said. The shuttle was now managing to skirt past most of the phaser fire and a small explosion proved that he must've been able to hit the depot. Chakotay didn't get a chance to hail Tom before the pilot's desperate voice echoed through the Bridge, "I've knocked out the phaser array. If you can take some of the heat off me with those guard dogs that are coming at me I think we can still do this!"

"We can." Chakotay said firmly as he noticed the formation the guard ships were taking to surround the depot and Tom, he'd learned how to poke holes in that his first tactical lesson at the Academy. "Assume battle formation Delta Nine!" he ordered his crew sharply, "Keep the line open with Tom and do what he needs, the most important thing here is destroying that depot!"

The next several minutes were a chaotic frenzy as the Valjean and its shuttle held their own against the defensive onslaught. Every time the crew began to panic as their shields steadily dropped Tom would land another blast on the depot that would spur them on. It was already aflame as Chakotay ordered a blast of phaser fire at the ship closest to Tom, the Valjean itself taking a torpedo in sacrifice. "Just one more shot and we can get out of here." He muttered, "Come on Tom…"

"Chakotay!" Seven's strident cry of urgency somehow overcame the din of the Bridge at that moment, "We're being ordered to pull out, return to the Badlands immediately!"

"_What_?" Chakotay shouted disbelievingly as the floor underneath his feet shuddered then rolled. "It's too late for that! Who the hell is sending that message?"

" It's Kenharan's ID signature." Seven replied hastily, bent double over her console, "But the message is entirely unencrypted and being broadcast on all frequencies!"

Chakotay cursed under his breath, "That doesn't make any sense!" he exclaimed before looking out at the burning depot and making his decision, "We can't trust an unencrypted transmission, it could be anyone. It's too late to turn back now."

As if to prove his point, at that very moment Tom released his last torpedo and the depot exploded. It wasn't the cataclysm they'd been told to anticipate however, barely rattling the ships around it. Tom put everyone's shock into words through the comm. line, "Um, correct me if I'm wrong here, but shouldn't that have been a much bigger boom?"

"Yes." Seven answered in bemusement, her eyes scanning her console wildly for a moment before Chakotay saw her complexion pale.

"What is it?" he asked sharply, put on edge by her reaction.

"There are no discernible weapons signatures from the explosion or the debris." She murmured softly, "There were no weapons in that depot."

B'Elanna gripped the wall to stop herself from falling, staring blankly at the Borg. "It was empty?" she asked faintly.

Chakotay felt a violent shudder pass over him as he strode to Seven's console, a horrible scenario forming in his muddled head. "Have we got anymore comm. transmissions?" he asked thickly.

Seven paused for a moment, obviously reluctant to tell him. "Yes, encrypted now. The weapons we…feared, the ones we came to destroy, were deployed an hour ago."

Chakotay's eyes drilled into her, unblinking. "Where?" he asked brokenly, although he, like all present, already suspected the answer.

"Walasia VI, Grolin III, Ephus, Fineri…" Seven's oddly detached voice broke, "Bothran III…"

"That's…That's _all_ of our operational bases that weren't wiped out in previous attacks!" Nathaniel Harrow burst out, "That can't be…"

B'Elanna stared desperately ahead, "But they were moving everything to the Badlands weren't they? Maybe they hit too late…"

"No." Seven countered heavily, "They were still in the process of moving, at their most defenceless. With those weapons at their disposal, the Cardassians will have obliterated them all."

"The cache was supposed to be here, we were obviously purposefully misled." Tuvok concluded, his voice slicing through the sickened silence of shocked paralysis which gripped everyone else. "It is also apparent that someone told the Cardassian and Federation allied forces about the Maquis' bases and the movements between them."

"A spy…" Chakotay ground out through clenched teeth before the rattle of nearby phaser fire shook his senses back to life and he saw where it was coming from. Tom's shuttle, trying to limp away, had been caught in the tractor beam of a huge Galaxy class starship, something the Valjean couldn't hope to face in this state, but Tom was still trying with his phaser.

"Tom!" B'Elanna cried out, "We have to go and get him…"

Chakotay turned to Seven, who looked exhausted and resigned. "Shields are at 21%, transporters are off-line, the engines are down to warp two and we have no torpedoes remaining."

Guilt burned at Chakotay's throat as he forced out the words they all knew needed to be said. "We have no choice, we have to leave." Seeing his crew's devastated faces, he whispered, "We could be the last ones left."

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D This chapter was really hard to write! **


	41. Badlands and Penitentiaries

**A/n: Hi everyone! Thanks so much for all of your great feedback on the last chapter! :) I can't wait to hear what you think of this, canon events are finally upon us! For clarity, the previous chapter was set in the latter half of 2369, just in case there's any confusion as you read. **

The aftermath the incident at Deep Space Eleven was horrific for the Maquis as a whole, the covert Cardassian attacks, with Federation assistance, on all of their colony bases had threatened their very existence for a time. As the fallout of fear, grief and disarray began to disperse however, it was discovered that the annihilation had not been as total as most had feared in those paralysing first few days. Yes, many of their supply networks had been wiped out, capable leaders and staunch supporters killed, refugees who'd come to them for protection were once again homeless, but the main attacking force, the guerrilla crews in their battered ships, was for the most part intact, if now even more fragmented than before. This latter category of course included the Valjean, whose crew had had a front row seat to watch that destructive day unfold. It had affected them all. Whatever threads which had stubbornly tied them to the Federation were now well and truly broken, most of them no longer differentiated between it and the Cardassian Empire even in the more rational parts of their minds, enough was enough. Where their commitment had began to waver, it was strengthened by the conviction of a new betrayal and, even more so, necessity. Unlike before, where in the back of their minds they'd always known they could melt back into the crowds of disaffected colonists with relative ease, a knowledge that had given them a sense of security, everyone now felt like hunted animals.

In no one else was this new mindset more obvious than in Chakotay and Seven of Nine. They'd known within minutes of realising the Maquis' dilemma that their plan to retreat into the background could never be. There _were_ no others they could pass the buck to, if they believed in the Maquis they'd need to keep fighting for it. Chakotay was also acutely aware of the fact that if spies could unleash such a disaster, they would unveil Seven's dangerous background in an instant, perhaps already had, and if that was the case the safest place for her was on board the close-knit Valjean. For Seven this was less of an issue, she'd been coping with the threat of persecution ever since she'd been freed from the Collective. She found that where pragmatic apathy and often resentment had once dominated her thoughts of the Maquis a new determination had formed, she stayed for the sake of survival now, not to obey a political conviction she felt detached from or to protect Chakotay from himself.

In a strange way, the blow to the Maquis had saved Chakotay from self-destruction. The intensified threat to his crew's lives had helped him to push aside the guilt and uncertainty that haunted him. When he'd really needed to pull himself together and step up to true leadership he'd done it without a second's pause, and it was this new found strength that ultimately held his crew together even tighter than before.

* * *

><p><em><span>Stardate 48314.5, January 16<span>__th__ 2371_

B'Elanna winced, complaining sparks from her console spitting into her eyes, as Cardassian phaser fire grazed the starboard side of the Valjean. She glanced angrily out at the pursuer, a _Galor _class Cardassian warship. "Shouldn't an _esteemed _Cardassian Gul…" Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she parodied the Cardassian military's etiquette, "…have something better to do than heckle a single Maquis vessel on the edge of the Badlands?"

Seven shot the Engineer a disparaging glance from her own nearby console, "I believe that the Cardassians consider the elimination of all suspected Maquis vessels, however minor, of the utmost importance or else we would not currently be in this situation."

B'Elanna glared back at her, "Oh, so you consider our lives _minor_ do you?" she snapped hotly in retort.

"I don't and obviously Gul Evek here doesn't consider us a minor target, he's throwing everything at us!" Chakotay cut in sharply as he forced the ship into a dive to avoid another phaser strike. "I need the engines steady if I'm going to hold this ship together B'Elanna… "

"The port nacelles are overloading, I can't just…" B'Elanna began to answer.

"Try being creative!" Chakotay ordered through clenched teeth as he funnelled all of his attention into some creative piloting techniques of his own.

B'Elanna growled at him in frustration as she was confronted with the dismal engine data on her console. "It's hard to be creative with rebuilt engines that are older than I am!"

The oily, irate voice of Gul Evek was recognisable even through the static distorting the comm. system to a near incomprehensible state. "Maquis vessel, I am giving you one last chance to surrender yourselves before I give the order to destroy your vessel…"

Seven swiftly deactivated the comm. and redirected its power supply to the impulse engines. "I doubt a Commander of vessel as lacking in manoeuvrability as a _Galor _class warship will risk entering the Badlands."

Chakotay gave her a short nod of acknowledgement without moving his eyes away from the pilot controls which were helping them to avoid certain death. "If I can get just 30 seconds at full impulse I can get us into the Badlands."

B'Elanna, her creativity fired by her hatred of Evek, found a solution almost immediately, though far from a perfect one. "Shutting down weapons systems would give just enough power."

Tuvok's controlled gaze narrowed perceptively as he saw the warship looming over them through the viewscreen. "From a tactical standpoint, that course of action would not be advisable."

"It's a little late for tactics now that they're on us!" B'Elanna pointed out in exasperation, "Our weapons are bouncing off their shields anyway!"

Chakotay took a deep breath, his grip on the flight controls tightening even further in unconscious preparation. "Mr Tuvok, deactivate weapons."

Tuvok, to his credit, didn't even pause before carrying out the command. "Phasers deactivated, power redirected to impulse engines."

"Fire the last of the photon torpedoes." Chakotay added hastily, "We can use the power from that system too."

Tuvok, with a remarkable accuracy considering the circumstances, managed to land two of the three remaining plasma torpedoes directly into the warship's port engine just as Chakotay succeeded in pushing the engines into full impulse and flying the shuttle straight for the deceptive refuge of the plasma storms that made up the Badlands' outer ring.

Chakotay thanked the Spirits that he'd paid attention in the Academy's advanced piloting classes, as well as being more begrudgingly grateful to Tom Paris for inventing some of these moves, as the Valjean soared through the dense, cluttered space, weaving nimbly between the surging plasma storms. A garbled mess escaped the comm. for a moment before Tuvok explained, "The Cardassian vessel is sending out a distress call on all Cardassian hailing frequencies, they are now longer pursuing."

Chakotay felt his shoulders ache, a sensation he hadn't been aware of in the adrenaline rush of seconds before, before he allowed himself to relax slightly into his chair in relief, exchanging a small smile with his crew. He had to hold onto happiness wherever he found it now. "I'll plot a course for one of the planets in this region and we'll make repairs." Ever since the Deep Space Eleven attacks, the fighting factions of the Maquis had been based solely in the Badlands, but many of the sparse planets barely deserved the title and mostly remained unnamed, stopping places for desperate fugitives and no more. He'd just pulled the vessel around to begin his new course when a blinding light erupted inside and outside the ship. For a split second the more superstitious side of him suspected it was the white light heralding death as they were hit by a plasma discharge but as the sudden flash faded as soon as it had come he saw that his ship remained superficially unchanged. "What was that?" he asked tersely.

Tuvok, who'd been quickest to regain his bearings after the strange episode, answered, "We passed through a coherent tetryon beam originating from an unknown source. A massive displacement wave is rapidly approaching us in the beam's wake."

"A weapon?" Chakotay asked urgently, twisting in his seat to face B'Elanna, "Have the engines got anything left?"

It was Seven who spoke first, in answer to his first question. "The tetryon beam was a form of scan…" She murmured through tightly pressed, bloodless lips, her face so pale that Chakotay was struck with a memory of the deathlike complexion she'd had as a drone.

"And the wave?" Chakotay forced out, a chill running down his spine as he followed Seven's eerily fixated gaze to the explosion of white fanning out towards them. In the end he didn't wait for her answer, shouting round the Bridge, "Full power to whatever propulsion we have, full reverse!"

"It will be futile." He heard Seven whisper just before the wave crashed into them and everything went blank.

* * *

><p><em><span>Stardate 48315.2, January 23<span>__rd__ 2371. Federation Penal Colony, North Island, New Zealand, Earth._

Kathryn Janeway gave the guard a quick smile as she hopped off the cart that had carried her from the main prison complex out to the far reaches of its territory. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem ma'am, are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" The guard asked concernedly.

She laughed lightly in reply to hide her grimace at being called "ma'am". It may have been protocol for female Starfleet officers, but she disliked it almost as much as being called "sir". She'd never been able to stop some members of the U.S.S Mercury crew from calling her that, but on her new ship she'd be sure to make her preferences known straight away. "I've fought off plenty of criminals worse than anyone here in my time, I can handle myself." She gave the guard her most charming smile, "Now, where can I find Mr Paris?"

"He's right there in front of you." The guard replied, pointing to the first man of many working along the gravel path. "Good luck with him." He muttered with a sarcastic snort before pulling away in the cart.

As Janeway walked closer to the man the guard had indicated, she couldn't quite suppress a surge of disbelief. He was so young! She wasn't exactly old, one of the youngest Captains in the fleet in fact at 38, but it really was shocking how young these battle-hardened Maquis fighters really were. The very man she wanted Paris' help to find wouldn't turn 25 for more than a month yet and still he was already infamous for straining the Federation-Cardassian peace treaty to breaking point single-handedly. Swallowing her trepidation, she strode right up to the kneeling man toiling in the sun and said pleasantly, "Thomas Eugene Paris?"

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D I hope this is okay, I'm concerned about the beginning especially. **


	42. Freedom of Intervention

**A/n: I apologise for not updating anything since Monday, I've been working on a few pre-Christmas holiday assignments and was away yesterday on a field trip to Bath. Anyway, I've made time for writing today, please enjoy. :)**

"Thomas Eugene Paris?"

Tom had been watching this visitor out of the corner of his eye even before she hopped out of the golf buggy like cart the guard had brought in and strode confidently towards him. It wasn't every day an esteemed figure like a Starfleet Captain deigned this remote penal colony with their presence after all. It was only when she spoke however that he decided to make a direct assessment of her, his gaze sweeping up to hers. She was probably in her late thirties, attractive too despite his distaste for the staid uniform she worn, with keen blue eyes and a petite, trim figure. Her hairstyle needed simplifying though, the auburn bun was, frankly, top-heavy and fussy and for an instant made him long for B'Elanna and her sleek bob which framed her younger face so well. Something about her tone, though flawlessly pleasant, made his eyebrows arch, it had an underlying layer of authority and undisputed control that he'd always resented Starfleet types, his father included, for. "No one here has given me the courtesy of my full name since the day I was booked in." He remarked drily, not bothering to rise from his crouched position bent over his tools. "May I ask why you're so interested in me Captain?"

The woman smiled thinly, obviously not inclined to be overly amused by his sarcastic tone, but then surprised him by leaning down and gripping his hand firmly in hers. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S Voyager Mr Paris. I'm here to talk about a job I'd like you to do for me."

The unshaken directness of her manner, after he'd purposefully tried to put her off, appealed to Tom enough to make him automatically return the handshake. "First off, it's just Tom, and secondly, as you can see…" He gestured to the road maintenance tools surrounding him then glanced over at the grim slab of a cell block hunkered in the near distance, "…I'm already doing a job for the Federation."

Janeway smiled, she had a counter for that. "The Rehab Commission is very pleased with your work Tom." She replied smoothly, "They've given me their unequivocal permission to speak to you."

She watched as he finally stood up to his full height to face her, his movements as laconic as his reply, "Well, since I make it a rule never to go against something 'unequivocal', I guess I'm all yours."

Janeway gave a satisfied nod as she recognised that her first hurdle was behind her, but her pleased smile faltered slightly as she saw other prisoners loitering around them, growing and getting ever closer. "How about we go somewhere a little more private?"

Tom nodded in agreement, shooting some of the less foreboding of his fellow prisoners a sharp glance or two. "We should be fine if we move away from the worksite." He told her before pointing to a long avenue of well-established beech tress, planted decades ago by a well-meaning philanthropist in an attempt to make the prisoners feel a little less 'enclosed' by their captivity. "Let's take a walk shall we?" he suggested, laying his voice thick with only mildly sarcastic charm.

"Lead the way." Janeway replied good-humouredly, beginning to genuinely like this lost young man and letting herself hope that this arrangement really could work out for both of them.

* * *

><p>"I worked with your father on the Al-Batani as part of the Arias Expedition." Janeway remarked softly as they walked under the leafy green shade of the trees.<p>

Tom gave her a sidelong glance, biting back a sigh. Was she trying to find common ground with him, as many counsellors had tried before? He'd thought that his mere presence in a penal colony would tell her that he had little to do with his father, most likely a saintly icon of an Admiral in her eyes, and that bringing him up wouldn't help her cause to recruit him one iota, but he decided to be generous. "You must be good; my dear old dad only chooses the best to work with him."

Janeway heard the undisguised bitterness in his words and stopped mid stride. "So do I." She said honestly, seeing from the way his blue eyes whipped around to hers that she'd caught him off guard and realised it was time to make her move. "One of those good people, my security officer, is missing." She informed him, her throat involuntarily tightening as she thought of Tuvok but otherwise managing to keep her emotions under control as she saw that Tom's curiosity was piqued. "He was on a deep undercover mission infiltrating the Maquis, there's been no trace of him for a week, he's missed several scheduled contacts with me, that entire Maquis unit has gone."

Tom frowned, disturbed by the thought of an agent within the Maquis even though his months in jail for their cause had distanced him from them almost completely. "How do you know the whole ship has gone missing? Couldn't your operative have just disappeared himself?"

"No!" Janeway answered a little too hotly before restraining herself, "Not this man." She took a deep breath, "We have intel that says the vessel had a skirmish with a Cardassian vessel on the edge of the Badlands, but there hasn't been a trace of it since."

"You know as well as I do how difficult the Badlands are to navigate Captain, they're probably lying low inside…" Tom said impatiently.

"That's why we need you to show us where they could be." Janeway stated simply.

Tom blanched slightly, his jaw locking. "Oh, so that's what this is about, you want me to help you find my old 'comrades in arms'?" he asked tersely, "Well, I don't think I'll be much help to you there, I was only with them for a few weeks and they didn't exactly jump to show me all of their secret hiding places."

"Be that as it may, you're the only source of information we have on this particular crew." Captain Janeway persisted, almost as if he hadn't spoken. She pulled out a small PADD from her back pocket and handed it to him. "My officer is on this ship."

Tom sucked in his breath as he looked at the PADD. "The Valjean's missing?" he asked quietly.

Janeway nodded briskly, "Yes." She stepped back, face tight as she appraised him, as if mulling what to say. "Their commander is man called Chakotay, formerly a decorated Starfleet officer and one of the most effective leaders the Maquis has left." She cocked a brow at him, "You worked under him didn't you?"

"Reluctantly, yes." Tom answered bluntly, his lips twitching wryly when Janeway's eyes flashed with intrigue at his wording, "We didn't exactly get on well, at all really." He admitted before elaborating, "Chakotay likes to think he joined the Maquis in 'principle' to defend his homeworld, he made it clear he didn't approve of _my _motivation. He said I was a mercenary who'd fight for anyone who'd pay my bar bills and to be honest with you Captain he was right." His voice was harsh as he looked at Janeway challengingly, "So really, you don't want to be working with me, and even if you did, you'd never be able to search the Badlands. There isn't a starship flying that can withstand that godforsaken region."

"You haven't seen Voyager." Janeway countered confidently with a quirk of her lips, "The new biometric systems she's installed with can handle anything the Badlands can throw at her."

The pilot in Tom, which was never more than a hair's breadth from the surface, was instantly intrigued. "Really?" he remarked, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm before he suddenly sobered. "Even with a ship like that Captain, it'll be hard to find the Valjean. Her crew is dedicated. Whatever else I say about Chakotay, the damned man inspires extreme loyalty even in the most pragmatic of people." His face became regretful for a moment as he thought of B'Elanna and Seven, who certainly both fell squarely into that category, what had happened to them?

"Not in you though." The Captain pointed out.

Tom bristled, feeling insulted although it was true. "Why are Starfleet still pursuing the Maquis so much anyway? I heard that trick with Deep Space Eleven wiped the command structure out."

"For a time." Janeway conceded, "But not for long, the Federation-Cardassian peace treaty is at the most fragile it's ever been because of their renewed attacks on the Empire _and _the Federation." She looked at Tom seriously, "Don't misunderstand me, I _sympathise_ with the peaceful among the displaced colonists, of course I do, but waging a guerrilla war has never brought peace, only diplomatic compromise does that. If the Federation gave in to every cry of dissatisfaction there would never be peace, the whole system might even collapse!" She exhaled as she ended her impassioned speech, "These people can't see the bigger picture or the threat they're under. Believe me Tom; your friends would be better off under my, humane, custody than facing Cardassian justice."

Tom grimaced as her point hit home but held off several seconds before voicing any reply. "What would I get out of helping you?" he asked, doing a remarkable job of sounding nonchalant. Being mercenary again Tom, a small voice in the back of his head whispered bitterly.

"A clean slate." Janeway assured him promptly, "If you left here with me you'd never need to come back, you'd be a free man again." She continued as she saw hope flicker briefly over Tom's otherwise unreadable face, "You'd be an official observer onboard Voyager, advising myself and my senior officers."

"Hell, I'm the best pilot you could have!" Tom muttered in frustration.

Janeway was utterly unfazed by the outburst. "You don't have a say in _what _you're offered Mr Paris, only in whether you choose to accept it."

Tom shrugged, "Story of my life." He commented, his dry smile humourless.

* * *

><p>First, Seven could feel bright light burning into her eyelids, then the pain hit her dulled, wandering brain. Several foreign bodies were burrowed under her tender human skin, needles, she concluded. Her legs were bound to whatever surface her body was pins to, as were her wrists, she could feel metal restraints chafing against the skin of her right wrist and scraping over the implants on her left. Now that she'd become so starkly aware of the pain being pushed through her nerves by every part of her body she couldn't slip back into the mercy of complete unconscious, her body couldn't give her even that respite. It was the unmistakable throb of blood leaving her veins that forced her eyes fully open, as some sort of survival reflex probably. The strength of the light above was blinding for an instant, her irises drying out immediately and stinging, but when her optical implant kicked back in and her vision returned she dearly wished she could have remained blind and unknowing. Above her, eerily suspended centimetres away from her abdomen, was a needle as long as her forearm and as thick as her finger. Some innate knowledge told her what to expect but that didn't stop a hoarse scream leaving her throat as the needle plunged into her and withdrew just as quickly. At the same time the volume of blood being drained from her via a drip in her right hand seemed to increase and she felt dizzy. Though her head spun with fear, agony and rage, she threw her head sideways to look away from her exploited body, gasping as she saw row upon row of beds either side of her, each laden with one of her crewmates experiencing similar treatment. As she saw a white clothed figure sail calmly past her, old and new panic gripped her. Memories of her assimilation, an incident she had hoped she'd repressed to lie dormant and unremembered, assaulted her violently. Screaming for her parents as an impassive, brutally strong drone slammed her against an assimilation, several vertebrae in her fragile, six year old spine shattering on impact. The horror of watching, immobile, as they unflinchingly cut off her Papa's arm, then moved to do the same to her as a shot of nanoprobes flooded her bloodstream, a burning inferno of the imminent death of the life she'd known…<p>

Seven squeezed her eyes closed, trying to shut out the memories just as effectively. This _wasn't_ a Cube, she had to remember that if she was going to get out, resistance might _not _be futile. Twisting her taut frame, she managed to lift her head, crying out brokenly as she saw that Chakotay lay on the next bed to her left. His eyes were swollen shut, his hair as soaked in sweat as her own, but he was mercifully insensible to what was going on around him. As the needle plunged into him though, his body lurched and he groaned even in unconsciousness. Unable to withstand seeing him like that, let alone her own position, Seven managed to wrench her left arm out from under the metal restraint, then reach over and brush the back of his arm with her fingertips. For once, she was glad of her enhanced arm, the manoeuvre would've undoubtedly broken bones in her human hand. Chakotay's skin was dry and feverish to the touch, but somehow that tiny contact gave her strength. "Chakotay…" She forced out in a broken whisper.

Her voice, her touch, or a combination of both managed to rouse Chakotay. "Seven…" He choked out, staring at her uncomprehendingly.

At this moment, one of the white figures, sickeningly bringing the metaphor of 'angels of mercy' to Chakotay's mind, peered over Seven in surprise and, somehow, sympathy. "Let us go Ocampa…" Seven growled through gritted teeth.

The alien woman in white blinked, "It's all for the greater good." She murmured before her expression stiffened, "The Caretaker says we are to return you, mechanical hybrids do not serve his purpose."

An instant later, Seven was beamed away which pushed Chakotay into a wild, indescribable panic. "_NO_! _Seven_! _What did you do to her_?" The woman patted him soothingly on the shoulder as she injected him with a hypospray which urged him back towards unconsciousness, something he no longer wanted. He had to stay awake, had to find out what they'd done to Seven…

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	43. Delta Seven

**A/n: Okay, I've finally managed to get a break with studying so here's a new chapter. For the sake of my inspiration let's assume that Voyager went through DS9, Tom met Harry, the Captain met Harry, etc all happened as they did in the episode "Caretaker". I'm just guessing you're all as anxious as I am to just get to the action in the Badlands and beyond, enjoy! :)**

It is scientific fact that touch is the first sense developed by humans. Seven had to acknowledge the truth of that as her consciousness seeped back into her body, since the first thing she became aware of was something dangling near her leg, just tickling her right shin. She felt her fists clench as her whole body tensed and her skin rebelled in revulsion at the thin, filmy layer of some substance which covered every inch of her… It was that disgust which pulled her eyes open. Wherever she was, it was submerged in almost complete darkness, although soon her optical implant helpfully picked out a strip of light from somewhere behind her and the blinding blackness softened to a dull grey. Her gaze wandered upwards as her befuddled brain became bored with the torn, and wholly unenlightening, carpet of the floor she lay on. She saw what had been brushing against her leg, a bundle of wires dangling from the semi-collapsed section of ceiling hanging precariously above her. Somehow the flecks of dust drifting down from the hole captivated her as the light briefly caught each one, it was almost as if they were dancing, taunting her…

A brittle bark of a cough which rattled through her stiff upper body shook such irrelevant thoughts from her as sucking in the stale air restored her good sense as sharply as a dunk in freezing water. She gasped, forcing her arms to take her weight as panic filled her. Her surroundings had changed a great deal since she'd last seen them, but she recognised the place none the less. She was lying next to her station on the Valjean's Bridge. Sitting up fully as that realisation calmed her slightly; she took the time to assess herself. She was covered in dust. That benign everyday substance had been what had bothered her first of all things! Her muscles were painfully cramped after so long, apparently, in the same position, but she appeared to be uninjured. As she stared down at her, slightly shaking, hands, blurry memories made her stomach contract with nausea and her head spin. She _should _be injured, and badly. No matter how vague her idea of what had happened was, she _could _remember the pain of it vividly, electric shocks, needles… Her hands flew to her abdomen as the horror of feeling the plunge of the needle returned to her. She now recognised the grit in her eyes as old tears, related the burn in her throat not to thirst but to the screams that had been torn from her as Chakotay suffered the same treatment.

Suddenly oppressed by the silence of the room, for a second she sat numbly, straining her ears to find the sounds of one of her crewmates, of Chakotay. She'd known beforehand though that the effort was useless. No one knew better than a former drone how to recognise the absolute silence of being utterly alone. Still, not willing to entirely trust her instincts, she gingerly stood up, leaning heavily against the console as her skilled fingers resuscitated the Computer enough to gather at least a few, chillingly simple, facts. According to every piece of data she had, it was now Stardate 48315.6, more than a week after the last day she clearly remembered. Her mind was shocked into disbelief by that for an instant, but then she reasoned that she had no way of telling exactly how long she'd been held captive, nor how long she'd been lying unconsciousness here…

Swallowing the lump of dread which was constricting her throat, she forced her voice to function. "Computer, activate viewscreen." It took several seconds for the hoarse demand to bring a flicker of life to the viewscreen in front of her, but the distorted image it eventually offered her made her knees buckle anyway. The massive complex in front of her not only dwarfed the Valjean but also dominated the sandy orb of a planet it loomed over. That struck Seven as strange for an instant, like guarding a sandcastle, like Kolopak had shown her how to build once, with a starship. She now recalled that the Collective had also been confused by the set up, why was such a spectacular, near perfect, piece of technology guarding such a useless world? When they had tried to find out, via assimilation of course, the Cubes had been eliminated with ruthless efficiency…

A violent shudder ran through her despite herself, although she knew that most humanoids wouldn't necessarily see something, or someone, which could destroy several Cubes with ease as an enemy but instead as a blessing. They'd returned her, to the exact place they'd taken her from; she'd have to trust that the rest of the crew would be returned also… She slammed her curled fist into the console, a spasm shooting through her complaining shoulder, as the truth of her helplessness sickened her. She was completely irrelevant to this array and the one abroad it, resisting it in any way was futile…

* * *

><p>Tom glanced back at Captain Janeway in amusement as she took in the malevolent majesty of the Badlands spread out of Voyager's viewsceen. "What do you think Captain?" he asked superfluously, her awed expression gave away more than her officious pronouncements ever would.<p>

Caught off guard, the Captain started, "I…" She quickly recovered though, shooting him a knowing look, one eyebrow slightly raised, "I think it looks like a good place for a little ship like the Valjean to hide, so we'd better start searching." She replied crisply, turning to her First Officer, who somehow managed to look at Tom in disdain even while smiling gamely as he took in his Captain's determined stance. "Go ahead Cavit."

Tom had never understood why Starfleet officers felt the need to delegate orders, Janeway could ordered the helmsman, the delectable Lt. Stadi, herself but instead Cavit took her words as a cue for him to give the order, "Lead us in Lieutenant, warp 5." Maybe it was just to give the man something to do; he didn't think Captain Kathryn Janeway was the type to loosen her grip on the direct reins of power to make room for someone else.

"Yes sir Commander." Stadi answered smoothly, already dialling in the commands.

"We'd be better to go no higher than warp 3.5 if you want to get past the initial plasma layer without getting a nacelle ripped off." Tom commented, addressing Cavit.

The older man bristled defensively, "The first plasma layer never caused me any problems at warp 5 when I was patrolling the Cardassian border…"

Tom had a retort already planned before Cavit had spoken two words, turning to the Captain, "The Maquis purposefully enter the Badlands at the most tumultuous points to put off large patrol vessels."

The Captain's brows furrowed as she looked between the two men, but Harry helpfully interrupted at that moment. "A small ship fitting the Valjean's parameters did enter at this point Captain; I'm picking up traces of a warp trail."

"What? They should have covered that up…" Tom began, then stopped himself as he realised he sounded too disturbed, too sympathetic. He could see triumph mixed with the disgust which flickered over Cavit's face. Still, it _was_ strange. Chakotay had been meticulous about disguising the Valjean's tracks and B'Elanna was even more so, using several ingenious tricks to hasten the process.

"Maybe they hit a little trouble. There were reports of a Cardassian ship limping away from here last week." The Captain mused, almost to herself, before turning swiftly to Stadi. "Take us in at warp 3.5 Lieutenant."

Stadi paused for a split second before nodding, "Yes Captain."

Tom barely had time to take pleasure in Cavit's disgruntled expression before his attention was seized entirely by the feeling of this wonderful queen of ship launching off into the Badlands. There was barely a shudder before they left normal, star-speckled space behind and were utterly surrounded by the Devil's rainbow that was the Badlands.

"We're in and on the trail Captain…" Harry Kim announced eagerly before his voice abruptly died on his lips.

Captain Janeway noticed the shift in mood before anyone else. "What is it Ensign?"

"There's something scanning us, a tetryon beam…" Harry swallowed as he fought to regain his nonplussed composure, "It's created a distortion wave of some kind Captain, and its heading straight for us."

"A distortion wave?" Janeway echoed curiously, exchanging a quick glance with Cavit, who gave a concerned shrug. "On screen Ensign."

If the sight of the Badlands had taken her breath away, this blinding, all consuming wave of light made her do a double take before an instinctive current of nauseous dread overwhelmed her gut, and Kathryn Janeway had made it a rule long ago never to go against her gut feelings in a situation like this. "Full reverse!" She ordered briskly.

Stadi spun the ship into reserve in one clean movement, but the inescapable nature of their situation was soon dawning on them all even before Stadi confirmed it. "The wave is still closing on us Captain, travelling at the equivalent of warp 9…warp _10_…"

"That speed is impossible…" The Captain gasped out before moving into action mode, "Throw everything we have into the engines and reverse thrusters, divert life-support if you have to…" That last order had barely left her lips before she felt her legs being shoved out from under her, a white light burning her eyes to blindness as her ears rang with a sudden chorus of explosions.

When she became self-aware again, she realised that her back had buckled against the rail directly behind her. Smoke from sparking console blurred her vision but she could see Cavit sprawled over Tactical, bleeding profusely. With adrenaline she didn't know she had, she sprinted over to him a felt for a pulse, grimacing with grief when she felt nothing. "Oh Aaron…" she murmured regretfully before her training mercifully kicked in and she found herself able to assess the situation. There were groans of many injured, but Tom Paris and Ensign Kim were still standing. One glance at Stadi confirmed the worst; her burned face was left just intact enough to be able to see the glazed look of death in her once pretty eyes. She stumbled forward to stand in the centre of her Bridge, amazed by the fact that the viewscreen was still working let alone what she actually saw on it. The unmistakable myriad of colours that was the Badlands had somehow evaporated, replaced by clear space, a monstrously sized unknown…installation if that could be a term used for such an unknown. Drifting alongside it, utterly dwarfed, was the very battered but still recognisable Valjean. At least we found them… She mentally remarked with a dark wryness. "What happened to the Badlands Ensign?" she asked Kim tightly.

Harry gulped, having to lean on his console for support. "According to every form of navigation we have ma'am, we're 70,000 light-years away from the Badlands. We're in the Delta Quadrant."

Janeway stared at him for so long Harry began to fear he'd need to repeat his horrific duty and tell her the situation again, but she surprised him by just nodding slowly, biting her lips until they almost bled. "Hail both the Valjean and that…" She waved a hand brokenly at the installation looming in front of them, "…array. I want to know what the _hell_ happened and how we're supposed to get on the return trip!"

She and Tom held their breaths as they awaited Harry's verdict. "I'm not getting any response from the array Captain, I'm not sure if the comm. signal is even getting through…" He trailed off, "The Maquis ship can hear our hail, they're just ignoring it."

Tom frowned. That didn't sound like Chakotay; in a drastic situation like this he'd dismiss concerns about the Federation. "Are they all dead?" he whispered.

Harry shook his head. "There's definitely one lifesign that I can see, it's strange in some way though, human but not…"

Watching Tom's face, Janeway saw that he knew exactly who Tom was referring to. "Open a channel; I'll talk to them myself."

"She won't…" Tom started in warning.

"Channel open Captain." Harry interrupted.

Janeway took a deep breath. "Maquis vessel, I'm Captain Janeway of the Starship Voyager…"

An ice cold female voice cut uncompromisingly through hers. "It is irrelevant who you are. You should leave this section of space immediately."

Janeway stiffened, feeling threatened. Something about the other woman's tone pulling at some distant memory, but she dismissed the feeling. She had more things to worry about than a lone woman on a ship which had been near decrepit even before the trip through the Badlands. "I intend to leave exactly the way I came, go straight back to the Alpha Quadrant."

She might have been imagining it, but Janeway thought she heard an exasperated sigh on the other end of the line. "That is highly unlikely." The woman stated bluntly.

Janeway bristled, "How do you know that?" she demanded, "Let me speak to your leader, Chakotay."

There was a long pause over the comm. "Chakotay is gone." She replied in a quiet, low tone, her voice still oddly stilted to Janeway's ears. Kim had said she was human, at least partially, but…

"Your crew are dead?" Janeway asked, feeling sympathy for the first time.

"I do not know." The other woman admitted eventually, "They are not here."

Janeway was growing increasingly irritated by the woman's evasive answers, she got the distinct sense that she knew more about the situation than she was letting on, Tom appeared too intent on the conversation for it to be otherwise. He, who obviously recognised the voice, _expected _her to know something. She murmured to Harry, "Give me a visual of who exactly we're talking to Ensign."

"I've already tried that Captain, she's blocking us somehow." Harry replied, sounding flummoxed.

"Well…" The Captain muttered, "We'll just have to keep talking the old fashioned way." She directed her voice back down the comm., "Do you know where your crew are?"

"They are almost certainly on the array." She answered sharply, Janeway could now hear her detached voice becoming frayed, agitated. "I suggest you leave before your crew is submitted to the same treatment." With that piece of painfully stark advice delivered, Janeway heard the distinctive click of the comm. line being disconnected.

"Get her back." Janeway ordered.

"I can't Captain." Harry informed her apologetically, "She's blocked all comm. traffic somehow. I can't even try to decode it with so many systems down."

"Fine." The Captain growled bitterly, "We'll do this without her help."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm nervous about this chapter! Thanks so much to NikkiB1973 for updating her lovely C/7 fic "Shining Star", every one of you should definitely read that too, it's so sweet! :)**


	44. Light Bulb Moments

**A/n: Again, I'm sorry for the lack of updates. My cold is still bothering me enough to keep me from typing for long, so I've been working on this gradually, bit by bit, for days. I didn't want to post a really short chapter just for the sake of it and doing it this way has actually made this chapter unusually long. Enjoy! :)**

"Fine." Janeway found that the angry declaration was sticking in her throat and thought she could hear the fear underneath it, quickly adding, "We'll do this without her help." The doubt she saw flickering across Tom Paris' face made her stiffen even as she saw several of her crewmembers relax, obviously as unsettled by the strange Maquis woman's doom laden warnings as she had been and glad to hear their Captain's immediate dismissal of them. The problem was, as she stared out at the metallic hulk that was the array the last thing she could do was ignore its power, the woman's words had only strengthened her own sense of the threat. She was sorely tempted to demand more information from Paris, or divert power to beam the lone Maquis over here for a more forthcoming conversation, but she felt that doing so right now, when she was still so blind as to the reality of the situation, would be dangerously overplaying her hand…

"Captain, we need help down here in Engineering!" A strained but in control male voice echoed at her down the comm. line. "The Chief is dead and we're facing a warp core breech…"

Janeway gasped, very aware of the blood draining away from her face as she slammed her hand down on her comm. badge, searching her brain for a name that matched the engineer's voice. "I'll be right there Lieutenant Carey." She reassured him, just remembering his name was enough to give her a scrap of calm control to clutch onto. She turned sharply for the turbolift, catching Harry Kim's wide-eyed gaze as she did so. "Go to Sickbay and report back how they're holding up Ensign, we're going to need as much treatment capacity as we can get."

To his credit, Harry Kim's boyish face instantly set into determination, even as he swallowed slightly as Tom Paris approached him, trying to support the weight of a badly injured Ensign Rollins. "Yes Captain." He agreed hurriedly, moving to help Paris with Rollins before the two men trooped into the turbolift with their crippled load. Taking a deep breath as her suddenly wandering gaze found the trail of scarlet blood trickling after them; Janeway braced her shoulders and followed them in.

* * *

><p>Harry glanced over Rollins' shoulder, buckled over his own; to see the turbolift close behind them, taking the Captain onto Engineering, then looked over at Tom uneasily. "Do you know that woman? The one who practically told us we had no hope of getting home…"<p>

Tom heard the offended, panicky edge to his new friend's voice but decided there was little point in lying, not when Seven's words were churning around his brain as much as Harry's, if not more so considering what he knew of her. "Yes." He confirmed, "She's part of Chakotay's crew so I knew her."

Harry couldn't take comfort in Tom's off-hand shrug as he said this, he'd seen the other man hide behind his thin glaze of a blasé, devil may care manner too often when barbed comments from Cavit and the others had obviously hit their mark to not be able to guess when Paris was downplaying something. "I guess that means you've done your job then, found the Maquis just like the Captain asked." He replied as he anxiously studied Tom's face for answers, the words leaving his lips as quickly as his heart was racing and betraying his nerves just as much.

Tom grimaced as Rollins gave a groan, weak but still able to linger in his ears. He felt a surge of bitterness run through him, masking the anger with himself that was much stronger but both infected his voice. "Yeah, well a prison cell in the Alpha Quadrant is looking pretty good to me right now…" Fresh guilt prickled him as Harry wasn't quite quick enough to suppress his stricken look.

"You believe her then?" he croaked out, mouth opening and closing as he gulped repeatedly, staring at the chaos of the half wrecked corridor around him as if seeing it for the first time. Could this situation really get worse? On his maiden mission?

Tom gave him a sidelong glance, enough for Harry to see that his blue eyes seemed grey in the harsh emergency strip lighting, his emotions clouding them like a stormy sky. "Yes, I believe her." He muttered with regretful certainty, "She was always reliable about certain things…" Seeing Harry's eyes narrow, he added firmly, "If you'd met her you'd know what I meant."

"Well I haven't!" Harry burst out desperately, pressing his bloodless lips together to control himself as he saw Tom flinch. "What I mean Tom is that she could be lying, the Maquis aren't exactly trustworthy…"

"Probably not, I was one of them after all." Tom retorted tersely, sighing as he saw hurt anger flicker across Harry's guileless face. "Look Harry, all that I can tell you is that if I could I'd be at the comm. right now, flying us a good distance away from this thing until we figure out what's happening." He told him frankly, seeing with more than a little relief that Harry was finally accepting his conviction on this. If only he'd been able to tell him, tell them all, that it wasn't wise to ignore the foreboding of a usually fearless ex-Borg who was now quite the opposite. Remembering her tone made him shiver, and despite himself he recalled one of his father's pet metaphors, 'someone's walked over your grave'. Captain Janeway could be leading them all to a lonely, unknown Delta quadrant grave with every extra second near this array… "But our job right now is to get this man to Sickbay so we'd better get to it." He reminded Harry resignedly.

Harry nodded grimly and stopped abruptly outside a slim silver doorway. "This is it, Sickbay."

"Right." Tom acknowledged, turning to give an encouraging nod to the walking wounded who were weakly following their lead. The door opened sluggishly, and Tom immediately saw the reason, the body of a young, fair-haired nurse, probably just out of the Academy had been thrown against it, denting the metal. Her arm, through spared from the plasma burns that covered her face, had the unmistakable grey tinge of death and was caught between the doors. Tom forced himself to choke back nausea as he stepped over her, glad to see that Harry took over guiding the wounded inside, though to his mind this supposed sanctuary had been transformed into a hell of death and destruction. Through the drifting acrid smoke he could see the bodies of the second nurse and the Chief Medical Officer by a blown-out console. They were crumpled and broken; the force of the explosion had crushed their bodies in on themselves like a concertina. "It looks like they were all too close to their console when the power surge hit." He reported to Harry quietly.

The other man's face was paper white but carefully controlled as he took a deep breath then made a sharp command to the Computer they had to hope was still minimally functional. "Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

A balding human male, somehow stern and even disgruntled despite being programmed precisely for situations such as this, materialised by the main console. "State the natural of the medical emergency." He stated briskly.

"Our doctor and his team are dead and we have wounded." Harry explained quickly.

"Understood." The hologram replied, gesturing impatiently through the smoke for the wounded. "Please arrange yourselves for appropriate triage treatment." He said smoothly, his gaze focusing as Tom and Harry brought Rollins to him. He held out his palm to Harry expectantly, "Tricorder." Harry clumsily removed his tricorder from his belt. The EMH took one glance at it and his nose wrinkled in very realistic disbelief. "_Medical_ tricorder." He reprimanded Harry, distinctly unimpressed.

"Here." Tom broke in, shoving the requested instrument into his hand.

Their new doctor barely nodded in acknowledgement before saying rapidly as he worked on Rollins, "A replacement medical officer must be requested as soon as possible. I am only programmed to be a short term emergency supplement to the medical team."

"Well…" Tom exchanged a pensive glance with Harry, "We may be stuck with you for a while, Doc."

The hologram stiffened as he shot Tom a haughty look, "I assure you that I am fully programmed to treat any injury or disease any of you may be suffering from in the interim, but it is not the ideal situation…"

"No, it's certainly not." Tom agreed without hesitation, "But we're a _long _way from any back up right now…"

"Be that as it may, I will need at least a trained nurse as soon as possible." The Doctor pressed, "Now, since _you_…" He shot Harry a disparaging glance, "…can at least tell the difference between a basic and a medical tricorder, please assist me."

"Fine…" Tom began to reply exasperatedly, but in that instant he disappeared, along with, the Doctor now saw, the medically incompetent Ensign and all of his patients.

He frowned around the empty room discontentedly, quickly realising that they'd all been transported away. Obviously help had come to this ship's aid after all, but here he was, left running with no patients to treat! "Doesn't anyone know how to turn off a programme when they leave?" he addressed the absent crew grumpily, "I'm a doctor, not a light bulb! My being activated when there is no need of me is a valuable waste of resources…"

* * *

><p>It appears you did not believe me, Captain Kathryn Janeway, Seven thought to herself darkly as she focused the Valjean's remaining sensors on the U.S.S Voyager and was promptly told that the ship was uninhabited, no lifesigns present, only a lingering mass transporter signal. Her prediction had been proven correct; Voyager and the Valjean now shared the same fate. She found she couldn't muster up much regret, Kolopak would've been disappointed in that, but she'd already exercised all her compassion by warning them, her concern and empathy was dedicated to her own crew. It wasn't as if she could do anymore for them than she could do for Chakotay and the other. For a few irrationally hopeful moments she allowed herself to think that with a new crew to use, her Maquis Collective would be dismissed and returned to her, but the dragging minutes, as silent as ever, dashed the vain hope almost as soon as her despairing heart had nurtured it to life in desperation.<p>

The sound of something crashing to the ground behind her made Seven spin around, the phaser she had salvaged poised in her hand even as her heart jumped with the sudden thought that, perhaps, someone had been returned from the array. Golden eyes, dark with fear, were the first thing she saw, causing her finger to twitch on the trigger, but then a low growl made her recall an old friend with a gasp. "Lucky?" The hulking, shaggy form of the dog stilled at once, his nostrils flaring for an instant before a relieved whine told her he recognised his mistress. He approached her with a wariness she hadn't seen since that horrible day on Dorvan V, but soon his warm, furry bulk pressed against her legs, his rough tongue caressing her hands gratefully. Seven exhaled then, surprised to feel tears burning at the edges of her eyes as she dug her fingers into the dog's thick fur, using him like a crutch as she gingerly lowered the phaser. It was of course a relief not to be utterly alone, but seeing her old pet was a mixed blessing, bringing back memories of simpler days. An unexpected sob shook her chest, but she made sure it made no sound. Was this _her _fate? To await death with none of the humanoid companionship she'd grown to need?

A shrill chorus of beeps on the console smothered her sobs instantly, the awareness of a new threat drying the unacknowledged tears on her cheeks. One glance told her skilled brain everything she needed to know. There was a microfracture in Voyager's warp core. They'd managed to activate the magnetic constrictors before they left, but that wasn't enough. Not enough to leave it unattended for hours, a breech was still possible. To avert an explosion, let alone allow them to operate warp drive, more would have to be done. Her jaw locked as the detached, Borg side of her brain, bluntly concluded that she was the only one here who was capable enough, who cared enough, to stop Voyager from exploding and taking the Valjean along with it. If she didn't take the risk then it would be irrelevant whether the two crews were ever released or not, they would have nowhere to go if they were.

That logic was prevailing enough for her to dismiss everything else for now as she transferred every errant jolt of remaining energy to the Valjean's transporters.

* * *

><p>U.S.S Voyager, Intrepid class. An entirely new vessel, completely unknown to her from her years within the Collective, but that was irrelevant. Starfleet were thankfully predictable in their starship design so she found Engineering easily enough, Lucky carefully leading her through the debris. The abandonment of the cavernous space, though entirely expected, still sent a shudder up her spine as she saw that only the limp bodies of the dead had been declared exempt from scrutiny. She forced the reaction aside, moving to the engine controls and setting to work. It took her longer to restore the engine to relative normality than it should have, she silently admitted that B'Elanna could have been of some assistance, but it was effective, Voyager itself was safe. If Captain Janeway lived to return to her post, human custom dictated that she 'owed her a favour'. Probably more than one.<p>

Her first instinct was to beam straight back off, but something held her back as she studied her surroundings. Voyager was an impressive ship. If the two crews escaped Voyager could destroy the Valjean with ease. She would've liked to believe that Janeway would dismiss her pursuit of the Maquis as irrelevant when the magnitude of what had happened to both ships hit her, but Seven, though doubting her own abilities at character judgement, also doubted that Janeway would pragmatically let Starfleet's orders go. If the Maquis were going to survive this long term, they needed an advantage and she'd been using it since she'd boarded, the Computer. She found a high capacity data chip and plugged it into the nearest console. "Computer, download selected files." She ordered decisively as she began to roll through Voyager's databanks with the superhuman speed the Borg had given her. Soon she had access to, after deploying Borg encryption codes, every file on the ship and knew it's capabilities as well as she knew the Valjean's. It was halfway through the personnel files however that she saw the first thing that truly frightened her about this ship.

It took Seven several moments to full understand the depth of what she was reading, but there it was, stated deceptively simply, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Chief Tactical and Security Officer. Irrationally, she couldn't believe it, thought it was a lie, but it was much clearer about Tuvok than the man had ever been about himself with any of his supposed Maquis comrades. She felt her knees buckle, having to seize the betraying console to stay remotely upright, and she knew that if she had not had an entirely empty stomach, a legacy of her captivity and complete preoccupation, she would have been unable to stop the nausea rolling in her gut from crippling her with vomiting. They _knew_. Starfleet knew of her existence. Her capture, or death, was assured if she did nothing. How? How could this be? The Valjean was truly cornered; Janeway surely knew everything about them…

Her vision blurred and she realised her panicked heart was pushing her rapidly towards the release of unconscious. She had to sag against a whimpering Lucky for support, gritting her teeth as she struggled to regain her control. If her crew came back, they'd have to run and to run they'd need to be recovered, strong. Impulsively she snatched up a bag in which one of the dead Voyager crewman had been lugging supplies less than an hour ago. It was time for a supply raid.

* * *

><p>If there was one flaw in his programme, it was surely that he couldn't deactivate himself. This was growing eerie now, the emptiness. His emotional subroutines were even triggering fear and anxiety within him. What if the crew had all been killed by hostiles? Would he be leave hovering around this lifeless, and frankly cramped, Sickbay until his programme degraded?<p>

Something in his circuits soared as the door opened and he immediately cried out. "Well, it's about time one of you came back…" His voice died in his throat as his visual circuits told him his visitor was not one of his crew. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The young woman's eyes widened, but she made no sound, her full lips drawing into a taunt line as she stared at him. He found himself staring back; somehow words didn't come to him as easily with this humanoid as they had with the two men earlier. She was human, he saw that now, she had all the genetic markers, but his vast mental database couldn't find a reason for the metal which curved around her right eye and splayed out in a strange pattern by her left ear. A loud growl broke the stalemate, and he gaped as he saw a huge canine specimen hovering just behind the girl, teeth bared right at him, nostrils flaring wildly in confusion and fear.

The animal's reaction seemed to bring the intruder to a conclusion. "A hologram." She stated coolly, sweeping past him, her stance relaxing as she dismissed him, her hackles had been raised to the threat he posed as much as her dog's.

"The Emergency Medical Hologram." He corrected her, offended by her abrupt dismissal.

"The Chief Medical Officer is dead then?" she asked bluntly.

"Yes." He replied, "But I'm perfectly capable of treating any medical problem you may have."

She stiffened and her alert pet, still intent on the Doctor, fled protectively to her side. "I am undamaged."

"Then why are you here?" he demanded irately, "This vessel is for approved personnel and visitors only, and I doubt you're either. Firstly bringing animals in here is strictly prohibited for hygiene reasons…"

"You have no patients to protect from infection." She pointed out, eyebrow arched. "And I may be undamaged myself but my crew will require medical supplies." With that, she turned away from him and began to slip numerous medical tools into the bag she carried.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, seizing her elbow, "You can't just come into my Sickbay and start pilfering my…"

She flinched then, "I've left enough for you to be able to treat your crew when they return Doctor, and you have replicators at your disposal."

He sighed, "If your ship is in such bad state bring your people here and I'll treat them. My programming ensures that I'm tied to the Hippocratic Oath."

"No!" She exclaimed, pulling herself away, "They cannot come here…"

As she jerked away her left hand and arm were exposed by the long dark cloak she wore and he saw irrefutable evidence of what she was. Her arm had the unmistakable brand of the Borg. "You're a drone…" He choked out, "Has the crew been assimilated?" he whispered as he shrank away from her.

Her blue eyes blinked then, suddenly glimmering eerily. "Their fate is less certain than that." She replied thickly before sharply adding, "Computer, deactivate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

He heard the pain in the first sentence and realised then that she was no longer a full Borg feeling an odd, surely not programmed, compassion for her. "At least you have the sense to deacti…"

Seven felt a sigh leave her chest as said deactivation cut him off, leaving her alone again. It was then that she grimly beamed herself back to the Valjean.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I know I've been really slow recently, but if anyone has any Christmas C/7 fic ideas I'll try my best to write them, I came up with a few myself last year but am drawing a bit of a blank now, arrgh! ):**


	45. Reunited, For Better or Worse

**A/n: I apologise about my lack of updates. Real life kept interfering unfortunately. I hope you enjoy this delayed but long chapter! :)**

"Is everyone here?" Chakotay asked the fragments of his bedraggled, traumatised crew, all of them huddled against the back door of the barn they'd found, disguised behind hay bales. When none of his people immediately answered, his patience, already worn down to the bone by the incomprehensible but palpable danger they found themselves in, began to snap. "I asked for a headcount!" he barked out harshly, as loudly as he dared.

"Done Chakotay." Tuvok reported as the small crowd parted to let the Vulcan join their leader. "All of the Valjean crew are here, excepting B'Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine. They are unaccounted for."

It was a partial confirmation of what he'd feared since he'd woken, what he'd intuitively known since he'd woken here with Seven's screams, a sound he'd never before heard from his disturbingly resilient companion before but recognised instantly, ringing hauntingly through his mind. Still, hearing it from someone else was like a punch deep into his gut, his whole body tensing at the impact. Seeing the older man's watchful eyes on him, Chakotay forced himself to reply, "Keep searching for B'Elanna, we were all beamed into this place in different locations…"

"And Seven? You do not wish to search for her?" Tuvok prompted, his surprise at him evident even through his impassive Vulcan mask.

"Of course I…" Chakotay started to snap irately before his throat constricted to the point where the words couldn't escape his lips. He heaved a deep breath as he felt his knees begin to shake beneath him, and that steadying action was enough to allow him to look Tuvok in the eye. "I…I think I remember her being taken away." He admitted, "She's not here…" His voice caught and he heard Rhianna give an emphatic gasp behind him. "What is it Rhianna?" he asked sharply, guilt nipping at him as the young woman stared at him with saddened, huge eyes, nervously clutching her tail.

"I remember too Chakotay. When we were being…" She gulped, "…experimented on, I remember that I was close to you and Seven. She was talking to the aliens, the Ocampa she called them, and then…then you started to shout and cry for them to give her back…" Several people around them, their brows furrowed as they too tried to recall details from the obscured memories of their previous captivity, began to nod cautiously in agreement, eyeing Chakotay warily. Rhianna's eyes dropped away from Chakotay's remorsefully, "I didn't tell you earlier because I thought you'd be upset Chakotay…"

Chakotay felt his jaw lock. No kidding, of course I'm upset! He thought bitterly, but then his eyes swept over the tens of pale, terrified faces who relied on him to take responsibility and restrained himself to a sigh. "The only thing we can do for Seven right now, and B'Elanna too if we can't find her, is get out of here and find out what the hell has happened to us."

"I think we all agree with that Chakotay." Seska remarked coolly, appearing distinctly unimpressed, "But how exactly are we supposed to do that with all those human holograms stalking us around this 'farm' of theirs?"

"Those holograms haven't harmed us yet." Chell pointed out optimistically, "In fact they seem friendly, offering us food and drink…"

"Cookies and lemonade." Seska cut in drily, "I remember Chell. I hope you didn't happen to take them up on those offers, everyone knows sweet treats like that are best for disguising the taste of poison…"

Seeing Chell's bright blue skin drain to a chalky white, Chakotay moved the other man onto a hay bale to hold him up then glared at Seska, "If no one has anything helpful to say we'd better say quiet to avoid drawing attention to ourselves."

"Seska could have the right idea though Chakotay." Nathaniel muttered fretfully, "These holograms remind me of the townspeople from a Steven King novel, friendly at first but who turn truly murderous if you try to escape…" He flushed deeply as his analogy was met with blank expressions all round. "Steven King is a 20th Century horror novelist…" He began to explain awkwardly.

"Little as I know of the reference, Nathaniel is correct." Tuvok intoned, "I perhaps would've been able to trust in a hope of our captors' non-threatening intentions if we had been brought here initially, but since we suffered through medical probing, I believe it would be best to avoid any contact whatsoever…" Tuvok halted suddenly, his athletic body tensing in preparation, "I hear several voices approaching."

Chakotay peered into the main interior of the barn, straining his ears. "It's two men and a woman. I think the woman is the one who was throwing herself at me earlier."

"The holograms do not seem to talk to each other, it is possible that new captives have been brought here." Tuvok concluded.

"Well, we're definitely in need of allies." Chakotay replied, "It's worth a try at least."

The syrupy Southern drawl of the female hologram hit their ears first in a whine of complaint, "Come on, why do you want to head off into this dusty old barn when there's a party going on at the house?"

The young man she was addressing, who Chakotay saw with a start was a human of Asian descent wearing a Starfleet Ensign's uniform, glanced at the hologram sheepishly before studying his tricorder again and calling back to his friend, "I was right! There are at least thirty lifesigns in here, human and others, they're in here somewhere…"

The holographic woman was becoming irate now. "I've already told you sugar, the only reason anyone would be in here would be to roll in the hay, and since you've already declined my offer we should head back to the party!"

A familiar chuckle in the background made Chakotay's blood run cold, "You declined her offer to roll in the hay Harry? You're even more of a boy scout than I pegged you for."

Harry's reply was an embarrassed hiss, "Neither of us know _what _'she' is Tom! My orders were to find a way out of here and discover if the Maquis really are being held here too…"

"I think the former order is the more important one at the moment…" Tom began to retort, his voice catching as several footsteps thundered into the barn. Chakotay saw him raise his hands over his head in surrender as several enraged holograms holding him and Harry up with pitchforks and shotguns. "I'm sorry for trespassing guys." Tom began apologetically, "But if you'd just let us leave then I promise we'd never bother you again…"

"_None _of you can leave until the Caretaker decides otherwise!" One of the holographic farmers declared, and at that moment the paraphernalia which had been shielding the Maquis from view evaporated and the entire group, Maquis and Starfleet were utterly surrounded. Just as their shocked eyes met however, everyone felt the inescapable grasp of a transporter take hold of them simultaneously and they were all gone from the farm as unceremoniously as they'd been dumped there.

* * *

><p>Celes felt a scream start to form in her throat as she felt herself materialise again, but as she registered where she was now, the sound instead left her as a nervy gasp of relief when her eyes saw the familiar, almost homely, interior of the Valjean's Bridge. It was Chakotay, finding himself standing again by the command console, who recovered first as his eyes locked on Seven hunched over the pilot's station. "Seven?" he choked out, his voice thick with relief.<p>

The Borg woman shot up in an instant, phaser in hand and her hulk of a dog glued to her side, but Celes thought this was the first time she had seen the composed woman utterly frozen with disbelief, her pale blue eyes glassy as they slowly took in her crew around her. She didn't even appear to be breathing as she placed one foot warily in front of the other, as if she were afraid the people in front of her were a desert mirage, a trick of her mind. Seeing her move seemed to break the brief spell and Chakotay practically lunged forward, yanking Seven so forcefully into his arms that Celes thought the action would've hurt a less enhanced body than Seven's. As it was, she inhaled sharply, several ragged, broken gasps following that first one as she sank numbly against Chakotay. Celes looked away then, her skin warming shyly as she realised the intimacy of the moment. Those around her had also lowered the gazes respectfully, for the most part. Many had knowing smiles gently curling their lips, while Seska wore an irritated grimace, vexation burning in her eyes.

Seven slowly became aware that the stricken gasps for air she could hear, verging on sobs, were escaping unacknowledged from her own throat as she felt an insidious wetness flow under her eyelids. Blinking rapidly, she hid her face against Chakotay's shirt for a second to regain control of herself, gulping hard as she felt his head shift away from the crook of her neck. "Seven…Seven…" He murmured frantically, "Are you alright? I thought they had killed you…"

"I was beginning to believe the Caretaker would not return you." Seven admitted weakly, pulling away from him slightly to assess his physical condition, able to sense his eyes scanning her in the same manner as she did so and see her relief reflected in his eyes as they reached the same conclusion about each other. "It appears he had no use for any of us."

Chakotay frowned, "Wait, what are you talking about? Who's 'the Caretaker'? What's happened to us?" he demanded.

Seven sighed heavily, and she suddenly felt small and frail in his arms. "The Caretaker is a member of a near omnipotent species known to the Collective as Species 97. It was his technology which created the tetryon beam used to carry the Valjean from the Badlands to our current position in Sector 45689.1 in the Delta Quadrant."

"The Delta Quadrant?" Chakotay exclaimed, much louder than Seven has spoken and immediately triggering a chorus of panicked and disbelieving cries from his crew. "How is the possible? That's over…"

"75, 000 lightyears away from the Federation." Tuvok filled in.

Chakotay thought he felt a violent shudder run through Seven as Tuvok spoke, but quickly dismissed it, that fact was bound to make anyone react after all, but Seven had presumably realised that long before Tuvok pointed out. He stiffened himself as Seven promptly stepped away from him, her eyes skipping skittishly over Tuvok as she did so. "Correct." She confirmed quietly.

"Can't…Can't we just ask this Caretaker person to send us back?" Chell asked shakily.

Seven regarded the Bolian, and the whole crew, as levelly as she could. "That would be inadvisable. It is irrelevant to him what happens to us. How we return to where he took us from would not be his concern."

"Can't we _make _it his concern?" Seska demanded, "What have_ you _been doing to get us out of this while we were trapped on that array for however many hours?"

Seven gave the Bajoran a hard stare. "When I awoke here, a week had already passed since we'd left the Delta Quadrant. I have spent another week alone here awaiting your return and maintaining the ship."

"Alone?" Chakotay echoed, brushing a comforting hand briefly against Seven's arm as she winced. He knew that to be abandoned like that would be Seven's personal hell. His stomach plunged in further horror as he studied all the faces present on the Bridge. "B'Elanna was never with you Seven?" he asked tightly, his heart filling with dread.

The feeling intensified as Seven's already drained, exhausted face paled further. "No." She breathed faintly, her face becoming pinched as she read in Chakotay's face that the engineer had not been with him either. "She must have been of interest to the Caretaker."

Chakotay's fists clenched, "How do you suggest we get her back from him? We can't just leave her…"

Seven remained tellingly silent and the stalemate between them was only broken by the beep of the comm. system being triggered. "Could that be the Caretaker?" Chakotay asked, almost ironically, since he already knew that that was highly unlikely.

Seven replied with a frustrated head shake. "It's probably the U.S.S Voyager. It appears Starfleet followed us into the Badlands. Captain Janeway and her crew were probably returned from the Caretaker's array when you were."

Chakotay inhaled bitterly, only now taking the time to look out of the viewscreen to see what faced them outside. The complex metal mass hanging nearby, three times as big as any space station he'd ever seen, was obviously the 'array' Seven had referred to. It made the sleek Starfleet vessel dead in space next to them, so new that it looked fresh out of the Utopia Planetia space dock, seem like a child's toy. "It's apparent that we don't have many choices." He muttered before glancing at Tuvok, "Open the comm." He ordered, promptly pulling Seven out of sight of the viewscreen as the interior of Voyager became visible.

To his surprise Captain Janeway was relatively young for a Starfleet Captain, and a woman. As she regarded him with a steely wariness however, he knew immediately not to underestimate her. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S Voyager." She introduced herself before continuing, seemingly undaunted by Chakotay's lack of reply. "Chakotay?" she guessed, "Captain of the Maquis vessel Valjean?"

"That's right." Chakotay answered tersely, wishing she'd get to the point. She obviously already knew who he was.

She walked closer to her own viewscreen. "We have just been returned from our captivity on the array that apparently brought us here. I assume it's the same for your crew?" She waited for his short nod before continuing, "One of my crewmembers, Ensign Harry Kim, didn't come back with us. I contacted you to ask if he was with you."

"No, he's not here." Chakotay replied with honest regret, pausing for a moment before deciding to be frank with his fellow leader, "We're missing someone too, our engineer, B'Elanna Torres."

"She isn't here. It seems they're both still on the array somewhere." Janeway replied heavily, her lips pursing for a moment in thought before she began a sudden proposal, "It seems we've both been the victims of the same phenomena Mr Chakotay. I suggest that, given these unique and perilous circumstances, we form an alliance to get our missing people back."

Chakotay could see it was a real offer, and despite hearing ripples of discontent run over his Bridge, he didn't see, anyone than Janeway seemed to, any other course of action. "I'll bring myself and two of my people to your vessel to form a strategy Captain." He suggested, not really expecting her to consent.

Janeway surprised him again, "Agreed." She responded swiftly, "Janeway out."

Chakotay took a deep steadying breath before swinging into action, "Tuvok, Ayala, you're with me." He ordered briskly.

Seven's unmistakably strong grip latched around his arm. "No!" she hissed to him desperately.

"Seven, you haven't offered me any other options…" He reminded her irritably. "I have to go, it wouldn't do Janeway any good to hurt me now…"

Seven, with her unnatural strength, dragged him away from the others. "My objection does not concern you." She stated bluntly before leaning near his ear to hiss, "Mr Tuvok is a Federation spy, you cannot take him to Voyager!"

"What?" Chakotay answered in the same manner, utterly incredulous, "Where did you get that idea from?"

Pain flashed over Seven's face, her gaze downcast. "I saw irrefutable evidence on board Voyager, his Starfleet personnel file. He is Lt. Cmdr Tuvok, Voyager Chief Tactical and Security Officer and Janeway's third in command. He has been on a deep undercover mission, with _us_ Chakotay."

"No…" Chakotay groaned in disbelief.

"It is true." Seven pressed again.

"Even if it is, and it may _not _be, what the hell where you doing on that ship?" Chakotay growled, "Trying to get yourself killed?"

"_No_." Seven retorted in frustration, "The crew were on the array and their warp core was about to explode, taking the Valjean with it, what would you have had me do?"

Chakotay was struck silent by that information for a second before recovering himself, "Still, that was _unbelievably _reckless, they would've shot you on sight if…"

"Reckless it may have been." Seven reluctantly admitted to placate his burst of righteous protectiveness, "But it was informative." She pressed a small data drive into his hand, "I downloaded their database."

Chakotay ran the hand that wasn't holding the drive through his hair, "God, you make me feel so relieved sometimes that you're on my side…" He muttered as he stared at the drive. "I can't not take Tuvok now, it would alert him and I'm still not sure if he is a plant…"

"You'll find out on Voyager." Seven responded, "I should replace Ayala…"

Chakotay's mouth dropped open slightly, then set stubbornly, "_No_. Absolutely not. Seven of Nine, I'm telling you right now that there is no way you're stepping onto that ship…again."

"Then our mission has an increased probability of failure." Seven informed him uncompromisingly, "I am the only one with any knowledge of what we are facing, you need me, and Janeway will too."

If Seven hadn't already been holding him in a vice like grip of her own, Chakotay felt that he would've taken her by the shoulders and shaken her in frustration, but as it was they both knew her argument had him cornered. "Alright." He growled at her as she let him go, "But for God's sake, wear your cloak, make sure they don't see you."

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	46. Betrayals and Revelations

**A/n: I know you all requested another chapter for "Their Human Errors" and I'm working on it, hopefully it'll be up by tomorrow, but I hope this chapter manages to tide you over until then. NikkiB1973 has undated her C/7 fic "Shining Star" with a brilliant third chapter so you'll have that to read too. Enjoy!**

"The transport from the Valjean is in progress Captain." Lieutenant Carey reported through the comm. system to where Janeway waited pensively on the Bridge, transporter control having been transferred to Engineering for the time being due to the damage Voyager had sustained.

Taking a deep, bracing breath as she rose from her chair, Janeway calmly answered, "Thank you Lieutenant." It's almost as if I welcome rebels to my ship as allies everyday, she couldn't help but think wryly as she watched the nervy Bridge crew marvel at her composure. If only they knew.

In that instant the distinctive lingering buzz of the transporter system heralded the arrival of their 'allies'. She felt the tension in her back slacken ever so slightly as she saw that, true to his word, Chakotay had only brought two people with him. At least he seemed to be holding up his end of the bargain so far. It took all the willpower she had not to even glance at Tuvok, to not express the overwhelming relief she felt at seeing her trusted friend alive and well. Chakotay's second companion made it a little easier to ignore Tuvok. The woman, even under the obscuring black cloak the curves of a female figure could be seen if nothing else, seemed a strange choice for an obviously wary man like Chakotay to bring along with him and that alone made Janeway's own suspicion peak. No distinguishing feature of the woman could be seen, Janeway couldn't even tell what species she was…

"Captain." Chakotay's controlled, but still biting tone broke through her thoughts. "You've got us here; we've established that we both want our missing crewmembers back, but what exactly is your plan?" Janeway only took the time now to take the young man in, who under normal would've been her adversary. He was darkly handsome, no doubt about that, and she could see the intelligence of a leader in his cautious, watchful eyes which still managed to burn with dangerous righteous conviction. She realised as she considered her reply that he must've seen her studying his crewwoman, he was subtly, but determinedly, holding her behind him as if he were her bodyguard.

"I think our only course of action is to return to the array." She told him bluntly.

"_Our _only course of action?" Chakotay echoed, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her, "How can I be sure I can trust you? That you won't trade my crew in for more of those experiments to get your Harry Kim back?"

Janeway stiffened, and this time caught Tuvok's eye. "I know we don't know each other Mr Chakotay, but I would've thought you'd remember Starfleet's moral code from your time as an officer, I haven't forgotten it. We have to work _together_ on this if we're going to have any chance of getting home."

Chakotay regarded her carefully, holding her gaze as he evaluated his, very few, options. "Agreed." He replied firmly, but then took a small step towards her. "But if you think I'm turning in my crew when we get back to the Alpha Quadrant, let me tell you now that that isn't part of the deal."

Surprise flickered briefly over Janeway's face, but her eyes soon hardened challengingly, "When we get home, the status quo resumes, and that means my orders from Starfleet will stand, understood?"

Chakotay bristled at the quiet threat; the sight of his dark eyes flashing with ire was enough for Tuvok to make his move, his phaser flicking out to brush Chakotay's side in warning. "In the interest of our current situation, I believe now would be the correct time to inform you that I am in fact a Starfleet officer."

Janeway heard a small click and saw that the woman in the cloak had shifted and had her phaser directed warningly at Tuvok, mirroring his action with Chakotay. "I believe this would constitute a stalemate." The woman intoned, and Janeway realised with a start that she was the eerie doomsayer from their first contact with the Valjean. She also knew from the anger but noticeable lack of shock on Chakotay's face that Tuvok had unintentionally revealed himself before now. The woman had probably had her hidden phaser trained on him since they'd been beamed on board.

"Yes, I would say so." Janeway finally answered tightly, "Lt. Cmdr. Tuvok has been a deep undercover operative within the Maquis. In reality he is my Chief of Security and Tactical Officer." She summoned Tuvok to her side in a single gesture and he obediently lowered his weapon and moved to join her.

Chakotay felt a hot rage start to smoulder inside him as he watched Tuvok go to stand with Janeway, a symbolic sign of the truth of the deception he'd been under which was only now beginning to really hit him. "So the last three years have all been an _assignment, _have they?" he asked Tuvok tersely, "Those bases being discovered, all of those _deaths_, that was all part of your mission?"

"I was assigned to infiltrate the Maquis and report intelligence, yes." Tuvok confirmed impassively.

Chakotay gave a bitter bark of a laugh, "Well, your Captain knows for definite now that you succeeded doesn't she?" he responded, glaring at Janeway, all of the tiny steps they'd made towards the necessary trust needed to get their crews home wiped out.

Janeway sighed heavily, the resentments of their Alpha Quadrant conflicts were the last thing they needed to be raking over right now! "We all know where we stand now Chakotay, so…"

Chakotay was almost ready to hear her out, he'd said his piece about Tuvok, but then he saw the man sitting at the comm. over Janeway's shoulder, the only one on the whole Bridge who kept himself turned away from these 'negotiations', and felt his bubbling rage explode as a blurry memory from his time on the array returned. "What the hell is Paris doing here?" he snarled, letting his feelings of betrayal fly loose as he started to lunge at the fair-headed man, who had the temerity to be wearing a Starfleet uniform. "At least the Vulcan was doing his duty as a Starfleet officer, but _you_, you betrayed us for what?" he spat out in enraged disgust, "Freedom from prison? Latinum? What was your price _this _time?!" He yelled irately.

The cool but absolute grip of Seven's cybernetic hand on his hot skin shooting out to grab his arm was the only thing at that moment which could've held him back, and she did so stubbornly. "Tom Paris' betrayal is _irrelevant _to our current situation Chakotay." She hissed pleadingly into his ear, all the while now terrifyingly secure in the knowledge that Janeway must know of her Borg past and feeling confused by the fact that the older woman had yet to bring it up.

Janeway had been certain for a moment that she'd have to have Chakotay stunned to protect Tom Paris but then the cloaked woman surprised her again by resolutely holding him back. Under the cloak's hood she could see the woman's lips moving rapidly as she spoke to Chakotay. Whatever she said must've been soothing, or at least a call to reason, because Chakotay's frame, which had been shaking with anger, stilled and his gaze cooled somewhat, giving Janeway the confidence to speak again. "Please treat Mr Paris with the same courtesy and respect you would treat the rest of my crew and I will certainly do the same for yours." She informed him warningly.

Chakotay swallowed as he felt Seven, probably unconsciously, shrink back behind him as she heard only a brief reprieve from capture in Janeway's words. He had to remain in control of this situation as much as he could for her sake and the rest of his crew. "Agreed Captain." He conceded reluctantly, unable to stop his mouth from twisting in distaste as he met Tom's gaze. Janeway was welcome to him as far as he was concerned. He inhaled as he caught sight of the array on Voyager's viewscreen, "I think, with the ground rules settled, we'd better get over there. We have no idea what they're putting B'Elanna and your Ensign Kim through."

Janeway bit her lip in dread. "Right." She turned to Tuvok, "You have the Bridge Commander. Mr Chakotay and I…" She caught Chakotay's frown, "…and his crewmate will go over to the array…"

"Captain." Tom Paris interrupted, "I know this is a big request, considering…" He gave Chakotay an uneasy sidelong glance, "But I'd like to come and help you find Harry. He's the only friend I've made here so far, so I owe him."

Janeway scrutinised him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Alright." She acquiesced, with a glance at Chakotay, who now appeared carefully unmoved. "Let's go." She concluded swiftly.

* * *

><p>Seven squinted for a split second in the sun dappled garden she abruptly found herself standing in, but recovered quicker than the others, who took slightly longer to become self-aware again after the transport. So this was the environment Chakotay and the rest of the two crews had found themselves in, the Caretaker's idea of a suitable environment had improved since the Borg had last interacted with him, not that the Collective had a need for such trickery.<p>

"No Aunt Adah and her welcoming committee this time." Tom commented as he took an uncertain step through the dewy grass.

"We have been dismissed; such elaborate deception would therefore no longer be thought necessary." Seven replied as she too began to move forward.

Chakotay, catching Janeway casting Seven an enquiring, suspicious look, silently communicated to her to remain silent by laying a hand on her elbow and letting his own gaze flicker from holding Seven's to Janeway in warning. "I say we're better off without her kind of welcome." He remarked, more to distract Janeway than anything else.

"We need to find _someone_ who can tell us what's going on though." Janeway muttered determinedly, stalking ahead, all the while mulling over what Chakotay's girl has said. The way she spoke reminded her of a Vulcan, but not quite, it also told her that Chakotay's comrade somehow knew more about their situation than she was revealing… A surreal sound rudely interrupted those thoughts before she could act on them, "Is that a…banjo?" she asked incredulously, not waiting for an answer before urgently heading off in the direction of the sound.

They found the source soon enough. It _was_ a banjo, and the old man sitting in a rocking chair absently pulling at the strings seemed to be the only character around for as far as their eyes could see. Chakotay moved to shadow Captain Janeway who immediately began to stride up to him, but he instinctively halted as Seven froze. "_That's _him?" he asked doubtfully, "That's the Caretaker?"

Seven pressed her bloodless lips together, her eyes fixed on the old man. "Yes." She confirmed in a tight whisper, "My optical implant allows me to see his true form."

"Is she in danger?" Chakotay asked with a look at the Captain, seeing at once that Seven was uncertain and, deciding that this was their only choice, moved forward to stand with Janeway as the old man finally noticed them.

His face instantly took on a vivid expression of despairing irritation. "Oh, why have you come back?" he demanded as he stared at Janeway, "You don't have what I need!" he exclaimed, throwing the banjo aside in agitation to illustrate his point.

Janeway stiffened, her hackles rising like a provoked animal. "Right now, I don't give a damn what you need!"

The old man turned slightly in his chair to face her more fully, a single eyebrow arched in amusement. "Oh, well, now. Aren't you contentious for a minor bipedal species?"

"This minor bipedal species doesn't take too kindly to being abducted." Janeway retorted icily, "_I _need to know why you abducted us, and then that you're going give us back our missing crew and return us to the Alpha Quadrant."

In a way, Seven admired Captain Janeway's self-command and determination, but she also knew it would get her nowhere, except perhaps an early grave. "This species is far too powerful to be swayed by your demands Captain."

The old man chuckled drily as Janeway turned to stare at Seven incredulously, "Your young Borg girl is right about that Captain, I have much greater and more pressing concerns."

"No, you do not…" Janeway began angrily before her eyes bugged out her head as she registered all of what he'd said. "_Borg_?" she echoed faintly in disbelief before all the pieces clicked together in her head and she whirled around to face Seven, "You're a Borgdrone?" she almost shouted, staring at Chakotay and Seven with utter incomprehension and at Tom in betrayal.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D Remember to check out "Shining Star" too. **


	47. Caretaker, Starfleet, Maquis, Borg

"You're a Borg drone?" Captain Janeway's shout was harsh, breathless as she spun away from the Caretaker as if she were a wheel his words had just sent into a tailspin. As she felt Janeway's eyes on her however, Seven was surprised by the relief that somehow surpassed her fear. One look at the older woman, her eyes huge with horror and disbelief, her jaw tight with the same betrayed expression she had seen on Chakotay's face just minutes before and Seven knew with an unproven but definite certainty that the Starfleet Captain had not been informed of the ex-drone in the midst of the Maquis she was stalking. In the short period she'd had to observe Janeway, she knew that if the woman had a talent for deception and carefully executed control, if she'd had any hint of what Seven was her reaction would never have been so extreme, no humanoid could fake such a response. In the back of her mind Seven realised that for those conclusions to be true than neither Tom Paris nor, more surprisingly, Tuvok had revealed her existence. That hope of clinging on to trust made a multitude of emotions well up within her even during the electric second of silence after Janeway's exclamation, she didn't have time to analyse them but it brought her to one decision.

Unpeeling herself from Chakotay's chest as he tried to pull her back, she sensed his fear without looking at him and could clearly picture the anger Captain Janeway's tone of near disgust towards her would be igniting in his dark eyes, she took a firm step towards Janeway as she lowered the hood of her cloak in one swift, unfussy movement. "Yes, I am a former Borg drone." She stated matter-of-factly, suppressing the urge to flinch as she watched Janeway try to absorb her words as well as her scarred features. Instead she straightened her back, staring down at the smaller woman with as much detached dignity as she could muster. "I have been separated from the Collective for many years Captain, I consider myself an individual, as should you." She couldn't stop her eyes narrowing, almost challengingly, as she finished and was unable to keep the words freezing into iciness as they left her drawn lips.

Janeway later wouldn't be able to clearly state what she was thinking in that moment where the unveiled drone left Chakotay's side and approached her, but she would remember a fear of being attacked and assimilated, despite her rational mind telling her that the woman had had several chances to assimilate her already without doing so. Rationality also told her to expect the waxy, lifeless face she'd seen staring back at her on too many report PADDs, bald head and all, when the hood was lowered but that preconception was completely blown out of the water. The implants were there, stark and unavoidable, on her face. The surreal and sickening sight of metal embedded into a human girl's face didn't blind her for long however because she was, undeniably human, at least genetically, and painfully young. She had to blink as her gaze now moved between the Borg girl and Chakotay, who was glaring at _her_ while still trying to drag the drone back. The only reasonable explanation she could've come up with for their protective dynamic was that they were related, that at some point Chakotay had saved a family member from a Cube, but a split second glance between the two of them showed that this was blatantly not the case. If Chakotay was, in some ways, a throwback to the firebrand, handsome young Native American chieftain, then the only way to describe his Borg girl was as some sort of Viking goddess of war, classic Nordic beauty paired with an imperious, penetrating stare. Her economical, almost clinical, statement in response to Janeway's own accusation knocked her off balance as easily as a blast of Arctic wind.

The old man's throaty laugh of amusement cut through the tension, causing both women to start. Janeway felt a chill run over her as she thought she saw a brief spasm of terror contort the Borg's impassive face for an instant as she regarded the man, who addressed Janeway again, "If you cannot even learn the truth about your own people, how can I expect you to understand _my_ motives?"

Janeway bristled, holding herself high as she snapped her head back to him. "I don't _want _to understand why anyone would kidnap strangers from another quadrant of the galaxy then expect them to find their own way back!" she retorted sharply, frustration obliterating her unease of him for a moment.

"Hmm…" The old man mused, his eyes crinkling with sadness that gave Janeway a shot of hope, but then he turned to the girl again, "Come here girl."

Seven swallowed, then averted her gaze to her feet as they trudged reluctantly through the grass towards him. She didn't dare refuse, not when her optical implant gave her an insight into his true form, underneath the benign human mask bubbled an aura of power which even the Collective, drawing on billions of assimilated minds, hadn't been able to fully comprehend.

When she'd drawn close enough, he leaned forward in his chair, studying her. "What was your designation?" he asked simply.

"Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One." Seven answered tersely, wondering if he'd kill her where she stood. It was obviously what Chakotay suspected and feared, his hand was twitching convulsively over his disguised phaser. The thought of him firing that for her sake, utterly futilely, was the greatest pull for her to flee back to him and beg him to go back to the Valjean, but for the moment she could only stand her ground, literally.

A tiny smile, or perhaps more accurately a smirk, on the man's expressive face managed to portray both respect on some level as well as regret. "Well Seven of Nine, you are most likely a unique creature now. I have not seen autonomous drones for two centuries or more. The Collective, as they call it, thinks itself too powerful now for such things. If I had been responsible, I would have amended that but it is too late now. One of many mistakes."

Janeway came forward, a little more gingerly now, she was starting to realise, as 'Seven of Nine' had obviously already known, that it wasn't this alien's technology that was the end of his power. He _was _power if he could speak so easily of destroying the Borg. "Our ships…" She indicated Chakotay and herself in a simple gesture, "…being stranded here doesn't need to be another one of those mistakes." She murmured with soft, almost pleading, earnestness, "_Please _send us back home."

The alien now turned to her with a certain amount of sympathy etched on his aged face, but resignation seemed to stoop his whole figure. "I understand why you are angry, I have more knowledge of being away from home than you can know, but what you ask is impossible."

"Why?" Chakotay asked thickly, now moving forward to Seven's side, resolutely creating a barrier between her and Janeway, "You brought us here, why aren't you able to send all of us back?"

"I cannot." The alien replied and for a moment Chakotay thought that blunt answer was the only one they were going to get, but then he breathed a painful sigh. "You don't have what I need, but the two I still have might. I have been searching for so long to honour this debt of mine which can never be repaid…"

The malady of hope gripped Janeway enough to push her into taking the man's hand as she met his eyes. "If you need something so badly before sending us back we'll help you find it…"

"You can't." He cut her off flatly, gently shaking off her hand with pity in his eyes before that determined resignation seized him again, "There isn't enough time!"

"But…" Janeway started to counter desperately but in that moment everything abruptly disappeared around her.

* * *

><p>"Captain?" Janeway felt overwhelmed with dizziness and vertigo for an instant as she heard Tuvok's normally soothing voice pound through her ears. She opened her eyes and found herself standing back on Voyager's Bridge with the crew she'd just left as well as Tom Paris, Chakotay and Seven of Nine. She gazed at Tuvok for support momentarily, ignoring the gasps that ricocheted around the Bridge as her crew took in Seven of Nine's unconventional origins. Tuvok, guessing what she needed, said, "You have been gone for just over an hour Captain. Did you make any progress in recovering Ensign Kim and B'Elanna Torres?"<p>

An hour? Janeway mentally echoed disbelievingly, though it certainly wasn't the most shocking revelation of the day. The alien must have a way of warping time to make hours seem like mere minutes. Looking around her crew's pensive, fearful faces however she knew that she had to hold herself together. "We learned more, but I'm not sure it got us any further forward." She admitted tightly. Speaking to Tuvok while seeing Seven of Nine in front of her reminded her of how much the Vulcan's inexplicable silence on that girl had blindsided her at the worst possible time imaginable. Since she couldn't question him, or Tom Paris for that matter, out here right now, she turned her heated attention onto the cause of it all. "Since you seem so much more informed about our abductor than the rest of us, perhaps you'd like to present a theory on what he'd do with Harry and Torres?"

Seven has harder to get a rise out of than that, and the fact that it was a logical question made her dismiss the fact that its delivery left a lot to be desired. "The Caretaker would most likely only trust the Ocampa with them."

Chakotay jumped in before Janeway could speak, "The Ocampa? You mentioned them before…"

Seven nodded quickly, "Yes. My knowledge on the alien is limited since the Collective did not succeed in assimilating his species, but I know enough to believe that they are the ones he owes the debt to." She normally restrained herself from such blunt references to how she gained her knowledge, it often made even Chakotay uncomfortable, but right now being as Borg like as possible around these people felt like the most effective shield around these people. That people feared her was a fact which normally induced self-hatred, but right now she felt that that fear was the only thing which kept these Starfleet personnel from killing her.

Janeway gulped, but managed to meet her eyes with a chilly calm, "And where could we find these Ocampa people?"

Seven breathed a short sigh before taking a few long, graceful strides to the nearest console. Despite bending over it immediately, she still saw Tuvok restraining a security guard as he automatically reached for his phaser. Janeway's gaze flicked to the guard warningly, but she couldn't hold back a reprimand to Seven, "I don't want you near…"

Seven sighed again as her hands moved fluidly over the console as if she hadn't spoken. "Do not concern yourself Captain, it would be irrational of me to damage your systems right now."

Janeway opened her mouth to retort but Chakotay's to her was sharp, his face dark and stormy as his tolerance wore thin. "Seven won't damage your precious ship Captain, she already saved it once. Who do you think stopped those warp core micro-fractures from becoming a breech while the rest of your crew and mine were trapped on that array? Without her you wouldn't have a ship to travel home on."

Janeway felt her mouth drop open as her gaze switched from a triumphant Chakotay to a distracted Borg and back. "Point taken." She conceded stiffly as she admitted to herself that she'd been wondering why the warp core had remained stable during their absence after the battering it had taken.

"Here is the Ocampa homeworld." Seven reported, and within a moment of her speaking the dusty orb that hung within distance of the array had been zoomed into by the viewscreen.

"It's so close…" Chakotay commented, "That's why you called him the Caretaker right Seven? Because he takes care of the Ocampa?"

"Correct." Seven confirmed, "The term does derive from the Ocampan word."

"We're going to have to think about how to get down there…" The Captain muttered thoughtfully before making a decision and striding closer to Chakotay, "I see no reason why our previous agreement should be revoked Mr Chakotay. We are still very much in need of each other's…" She glanced warily at Seven, "…expertise if we're going to get Kim and Torres back and succeed in returning home."

Chakotay took a deep breath, every feeling in his body except his rationale rebelling against the idea. Common sense and necessity quickly won out. "You're right." He agreed, "But I think Seven and I should return to the Valjean to inform my crew…" He paused, frowning at her slightly as he added sardonically, "…that is if you don't mind Captain?"

"No." Janeway replied tightly, "I would do the same in your place."

Chakotay gave a terse nod of acknowledgement. "Good." He steadily met her eyes again, his serious gaze not provokingly threatening but definitely uncompromising. "Don't be putting any more of your spies on my ship and I won't do the same, _I'm _a man of my word." He didn't give her time to reply before addressing Seven of Nine sharply, "Let's go." She'd obviously been awaiting the order because with one touch of her hand on the console both Maquis had been beamed off the Bridge and back to the Valjean.

Janeway felt her jaw lock, all of her muscles tensing even further, as she watched them disappear from her Bridge on a whim. She snapped around to face Lieutenant Decker, Tuvok's deputy. "Find a way to lock that godforsaken drone out of our systems!" she ordered bluntly before stalking off towards her new Ready Room, "Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Mr Paris, with me, _now_."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D **


	48. Questioning A Wayward Informant

**A/n: Thanks so much to Anniexus for posting a brilliant C/7 one-shot on Tuesday. I loved it! I'm only sorry that it's taken me so long to write a chapter to promote it in. **

Janeway had reached her desk in the Ready Room before the doors had even fully closed behind Tuvok and Tom Paris. She heard their steps, Tuvok's measured and precise while Tom's were slightly shuffled, make their way across the still bouncy new carpet to stand themselves to attention in front of her but she didn't lift her eyes up from the harsh sleekness of the top of her desk. She wasn't ready to deal with this. How could this situation have unravelled so drastically? This was supposed to be a six week pursuit mission at most, not a deep space mystery tour of the opposite quadrant! As if that weren't enough, members of her own crew had been hiding the fact that the Maquis had been recruiting Borg drones, for how long and how many she had no idea. Underneath the crushing layers of anger and betrayal she was experiencing, she wasn't even sure she wanted to know. Well, she told herself as she breathed an exhausted, uptight sigh; I'm pretty sure now that I don't have a choice in any of this so I'll get on with it.

She looked up now, forcing her nervous body to sit fully back in her chair as she silently accessed the two men, probably as different as two people could possibly be in temperament, but who had obviously shared a desire to keep one particular member of the Maquis wholly unknown. She saw at once that Tom appeared distinctly uncomfortable, the silence robbing him of his usual mask of witty bravado, but in contrast Tuvok's non-expression was impenetrable, his level gaze as alert to the world around him as ever but carefully closed off to his commanding officer. She always thought their working relationship was as valued by the Tuvok as by herself, that she knew him as well as a human could ever really know a Vulcan, but even if he'd done less than she ultimately suspected of him doing in regards to Seven of Nine, it still left him a stranger to her in the most fundamental of ways, understanding. That fact was almost as frightening, in its own way, as this entire situation. She'd need every person on this ship standing with her resolutely if they were going to have a chance of not only getting Harry back but of getting home at all. "Commander Tuvok…" She addressed him with a cold, formal stiltedness, "…please wait outside while I talk to Mr Paris."

Tom's blue eyes widened in surprise, he'd obviously thought, and probably hoped, that he'd be given a joint interrogation with the undercover officer, but Tuvok himself seemed unperturbed and took one long stride back as he replied, "Of course Captain." Only with that said did he turn his back on her and walk smoothly back out of the room.

Janeway's gaze lingered on the tightly closed door for a moment, and Tom found himself wishing that she wouldn't turn those eyes, gleaming painfully with betrayal and confusion, back onto him. He liked this woman, even if she was devotedly tied to the Starfleet that had cut him off, she was just unconventional enough to be interesting. There weren't many people, not even among that lauded breed that was a Starfleet Captain, who'd stand up so stubbornly to both an unknown, apparently omnipotent, alien and also a person she considered a drone in the space of a few minutes. He doubted he'd ever tell her this, not now anyway, but a part of him had wanted this woman's respect since she'd approached him, bold as brass, in that penal colony and hadn't treated him like a pariah. His lips twitched wryly as he thought back, maybe Kathryn Janeway and Seven of Nine had more things in common than either woman would consider

The relative calm was broken as Janeway suddenly riveted surprisingly steely eyes on him; it was down to business now. "Mr Paris, I believe I asked you _specifically _about any Valjean crew members I should be made aware of, am I wrong?" she enquired in a clipped, sharp tone.

Tom gave a thin chuckle. "Is that your way of asking why I didn't tell you about Seven's…unusual upbringing Captain?" he asked, "If so, then you'll need to phrase it like that. You know pilots, nothing but warp plasma between the ears sometimes…"

"I'm not in the mood for your supposedly humorous deflections." Janeway informed him impatiently, her eyes narrowing as she unconsciously moved forward in her chair, taking on an interrogative posture over her desk. She gave a short sigh, "Tell me why you didn't see it fit to tell me, or Starfleet before now for that matter, that the Maquis has _drones _working for them." Her voice was laced with lingering disbelief as she drew out the offending term.

"One _former _drone Captain." Tom corrected swiftly, "You heard the alien, the Caretaker, Seven of Nine is unique as far as anyone knows."

She twisted her head away bitterly, "Forgive me if I don't take the word of the being who dragged us to the other side of the galaxy on face value." She said, her voice controlled but harsh.

Tom sighed then, his gaze dropping a little as guilt began to prickle him. "Look Captain, you came wanting me to give you Chakotay, and I did, so I've kept up my side of the bargain." He reminded her tightly but continued before she could try to retort, "I never had much love for my old boss, we both know that or else you wouldn't have come to me, but Seven and the rest of the crew too are different. I always liked her, I consider her a friend, so I wasn't willing to sell her out." His mouth twisted into a dry, hollow smile as Janeway didn't reply, instead just sitting back and studying him, "Besides…" He began to remark wryly, "You saw how Chakotay reacted when he saw me before, only Seven held him back _then_, but I know that if I'd sold out Seven to you or anyone else, he wouldn't have hesitated to rip my throat out to stop me from saying anything ever again." He raised a brow in Janeway's direction, "I for one am pretty attached to my windpipe Captain."

Janeway's lips had pursed in thought, "He does seem very protective of her…" She took Tom's snort as an affirmative. "Are they lovers?" she asked bluntly.

Tom's eyes had a knowing glint even as he gave an exaggerated shrug. "If Chakotay was actually sleeping with Seven he'd spent a lot less time up his own ass." He concluded, equally blunt, "But I wouldn't be that surprised if they eventually wake up and smell the coffee in that sense. At the moment though, it seems as if Chakotay thinks of himself as too 'honourable' for that."

Janeway was becoming increasingly exasperated, "Then what's the story with them then?" she demanded.

"I never got the full story…" Tom admitted reluctantly, "But I know that Seven was assimilated really young, as in like preschool age…" He bit his lip as the Captain paled in shock, "I only know the bare minimum I needed to know at the time, Chakotay didn't fully trust me even then and his and Seven's pasts are his most dear secret, but I now that Chakotay's family freed her from the Collective when they were both in their teens, don't ask me how." He took a deep breath as he prepared to serve up his last fact, knowing it was the one which would shake her most. "I did realise pretty quick though that they're both terrified of Seven being taken by Starfleet. Seven believes they'll experiment on her, and honestly I've never really doubted that that could well happen."

"I dispute that in the _strongest _possible terms Mr Paris." Janeway cut in sharply, "But you're entitled to your opinion." She indicated the door with a quick jerk of her head, "Please send Tuvok in when you leave."

"Yes ma'am." Tom agreed promptly, but then paused as he turned towards the door, looking back over his shoulder. "Captain let me tell you this about Seven of Nine. Underneath all the implants and the mannerisms, she's a sweetheart, in her own way. She's no more dangerous than any other person, albeit an insanely intelligent one, unless Chakotay is the one in danger of course."

Janeway nodded slowly in acknowledgement of his obviously genuine affection for the mistreated girl, "I'll take that into consideration, thank you Tom." As soon as he'd left, she let her head fall onto her hands for a moment, feeling more at sea than ever. "I would say that Chakotay is in as much danger right now as the rest of us." She muttered ruefully.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I apologise for the chapter being unusually short, I've been really busy this week but I felt I had to at least update. I think Janeway's conversation with Tuvok will have a different tone anyway, so it's probably better this way. **


	49. The Logic Maze

"You asked to see me Captain?"

Kathryn Janeway jumped violently, despite the fact that she'd been anticipating this conversation even while she'd tried to focus on Tom Paris. Angrily fighting back the flush of unjustified shame as she jerked her head up from being cradled in her hands, her gaze fixed on the canary yellow highlights of Tuvok's uniform, the purposely indistinct browns and greys of his Maquis cover had been completely discarded. She felt she'd gleam more from this, meticulously presented, uniform than Tuvok's carefully moulded, impassive face. Surely the man who paid attention to such tiny details as the regimented row of gold pips at his collar couldn't truly be disillusioned with Starfleet? He was the staunchest officer she'd, probably ever would, know and had served for over 90 years, longer than she herself ever would, yet as much as these facts battled to defend her old friend in her mind, she couldn't tally them up with what he'd done. He'd jeopardised an entire two year mission for…what? If he shared Tom Paris' motivation, then it would appear to be friendship, but some irrational part of her wanted to deny what would otherwise be the best explanation, certainly preferable to his being a Maquis convert, merely because she was stung that he'd didn't trust her, valued the confidence of an ex-Borg more than her own. "Yes Lieutenant." She finally replied drily, in reality the pause, which had seemed endless to her, had lasted merely seconds.

Tuvok tilted his head towards her slightly in a simple sign of acknowledgement but otherwise remained stock still, his dark gaze unflinchingly steady on hers as he waited. Janeway sighed, here was the man standing who still respected the Captain's prerogative to begin the conversation, whatever the situation. The sound of her irritation was as loud, it's meaning as obvious, as she'd intended for Tuvok picked up on the cue immediately with only a subtle twitch of his eyebrow. In other circumstances, Janeway might've smiled. She'd wasn't exactly known for her restraint; maybe she had just surprised a Vulcan with her reticence. "I presume you wish to analyse my conduct during the undercover operation with the Maquis?" he asked levelly.

Janeway sat back in her chair, his calm manner shocking her somewhat. She doubted Tom Paris would often be compared with the man in front of her or vice versa, but right now they seemed equally unrepentant. "I think that would be a good idea, although right now of course…" She glanced warily at the array looming outside of the Ready Room's window, half-expecting the Caretaker to launch an attack while she was distracted with an issue he knew she wouldn't ignore, "…we have a whole other Quadrant's worth of problems to deal with." She shifted forward in her chair, pressing her elbows into her desk until they hurt as she internally debated recording this questioning session for prosperity before deciding against it. "Start with explaining Chakotay's Borg…friend." She ordered coolly, "I know you're too thorough an operative to have not been aware of her before the Caretaker flushed her out." She regretted the snide comment as soon as it had left her mouth, Tuvok wouldn't rise to it and she knew she'd need to stay strictly professional right now if she were to control this situation.

Tuvok barely blinked, just as she'd predicted. "I knew of Seven of Nine, worked with her, as soon as I boarded the Valjean, before I was even initiated into the crew. As I reported, the situation at that point was volatile, but my assistance rendered me trustworthy to Chakotay, and therefore to his entire crew, including his 'Borg friend'."

Janeway took a deep breath as she looked up at him, "What did you think of her at that time?" She toyed with PADD on her desk, flashing him a glance of the screen, "I still have _very _comprehensive reports of your first impression of every other member of that crew and I don't want to be left lacking."

Tuvok's gaze retreated inward for a moment in consideration, "I was…surprised when I learned of her existence Captain. To suppose that Chakotay's combative advantage came from such an unknown as a freed Borg would've been impossible beforehand."

The Captain breathed a ghost of a bitter laugh, "Believe me, it was." She muttered before her questioning frown deepened further, "It certainly was logical of Chakotay to keep such a tactical advantage hidden, I would've done the same thing if I were in his position, the real question is why _you_ did exactly the same thing Lieutenant."

Tuvok stared back at her, unease rippling across his sombre face for a split second. "You're questioning my logic Captain?" he asked. His tone didn't change but the mere fact that he was asking told Janeway that he was disbelieving. "I assure you that my every action since I began the Valjean mission has been governed entirely by logic."

The Captain stood up, her shoulders stubbornly set as she faced him but with her eyes intently searching his, her expression bordering on pleading as her resolve to this through frayed. "Then explain the basis of that logic to me Tuvok, _please_!" she retorted, her voice hoarse with exhaustion as she began to pace, "I need to understand what's going on with my own people, that includes the Maquis crew, if I going to have any chance of getting us out of this damned mess and back home alive." She pressed without giving him a chance to speak, her frazzled brain venting thoughts at full steam, "I mean, I never expected Paris to tell me everything, that was a given when I got him out of jail, but you Tuvok, you were my guide in all this!"

"Captain…" Tuvok began quietly, the look in his eyes as he gripped her arm to hold her still in front of him showing her a first glimpse of regret, "I was concerned with the integrity of the mission, if I had revealed Seven of Nine to you the mission would've concluded prematurely."

Janeway's voice caught, "You were scared of her Tuvok? Did she discover the deception?"

Tuvok gave her a long look, his tone veering subtly towards impatience. "You misunderstand me Captain. Do you remember what our mission brief was?"

The Captain's brows furrowed but she complied anyway, intrigued by what he could possibly be getting at. "Our original brief was to gather as much intel as possible on individual Maquis cells and apprehend them, bring the network down one by one, ship by ship, crew by crew." She answered slowly, "Starfleet Command believe that approach is more effective that risking a whole fleet trying to fight a guerrilla war on their turf."

"Correct, my logic was dictated entirely by that brief." Tuvok replied, "Tell me Captain, what would've been your course of action if I'd told you about Seven of Nine's presence within the Maquis?"

"I would've had to tell my superiors of course, a Borg drone working with the Maquis, what else could've I have…" Janeway started to answer before halting suddenly as realisation dawned, "And they would've put her apprehension above any considerations about the Maquis…" she whispered, "With the threat the Collective poses, a source of information like her would've been a coup, worth the whole Maquis operation…" She sighed heavily, pressing a hand to her forehead as she met Tuvok's resolute eyes, "Any idea of holding back would've been out of the window, and the Maquis would've realised and fought back ferociously, making our approach null and void." She shook her head wonderingly as she reached the same conclusion as Tuvok had, "It would've have been simpler, cleaner, if I could've 'unexpectedly' arrested her with Chakotay and the others and taken her peacefully back to Starfleet."

"Precisely." Tuvok answered resignedly, "In fact, I came to believe it was the only way. Early in our acquaintance I sounded Seven out about her distrust of Starfleet and she was firm about the fact that she had always intended to 'deactivate' herself if she were ever discovered by them or any other agency or government."

"'Deactivate herself'?" The Captain echoed dubiously, "You mean commit suicide? She doesn't exactly strike me as the type to commit hara-kiri Tuvok…"

"The Collective have a different mentality about that Captain, when drones are no longer useful to the group there is no survival. For Seven, the Maquis is her surrogate Collective of sorts."

The Captain swallowed, "Tom told me she was assimilated at a very young age so the lasting psychological scars of that are immeasurable…"

"According to Chakotay, she was assimilated days after her sixth birthday." Tuvok filled in.

Horrified nausea twisted Janeway's gut, bile burning as it sped up her throat. "My God, how long have the Maquis been exploiting her for? Twisting her warped reality further so that they can have control of a secret weapon?" she exclaimed angrily.

"Captain…" Tuvok interjected, "You are misinterpreting her relationship with them. From what I understand, Chakotay and his family members took her in and treated her as one of their own. Far from exploiting her, he is intensely protective of her, to the point where she does not engage in any active combat outside of the ship."

"Tom told me as much, and it seems he was as much a child as she was when they found her, so I don't solely blame Chakotay." Janeway assured him, "But that doesn't change the fact that she should have been revealed to Starfleet, she should've been getting proper medical and psychiatric care and then maybe she could've been reunited with her family rather than living as a fugitive."

Tuvok sighed heavily, "Perhaps Captain." He conceded, "But we must accept the reality we are presented with."

Janeway gave a careful tone, mulling over the hint of reluctance in his tone. "You don't agree with me do you?" she asked softly, "You think Starfleet would've done her more harm than good. You never wanted her to be handed over and your logic came in to justify that."

Tuvok's eyes narrowed marginally, "As I said, the path of my actions followed logic." He said stiffly.

"Yes." Janeway agreed gently, giving him a small smile. She turned away from him slightly, staring back out at the array, laid out on a pattern of unfamiliar Delta Quadrant stars. "Do you think I can trust them while we work together to get us all home?" she asked thickly.

"That is an undoubtedly shared goal Captain, the odds of success will increase with the Valjean crew's participation." Tuvok answered firmly.

"That's what I needed to hear." Janeway admitted, twisting away from the window once again, "I suppose you'd better contact them to come back on board for a strategy meeting."

"Of course Captain." Tuvok agreed swiftly, stepping back towards the door to the Bridge.

"Tuvok…" Janeway added hurriedly, "Why did you trust me to bring Seven of Nine back to Starfleet? You risked your whole career on the fact that I would, on my not saying that you didn't tell…"

Tuvok took a deep breath, a rare concession for him. "In my many years as a Starfleet officer, I have come to value one quality in my commanders more than any other, one you have in abundance, honour."

Janeway had to gulp hard as those few words touched her shadowed heart. "It was a big risk, and in a way I'm glad you tried to avoid putting me in the middle, but I also need you to trust that I'll do the right thing without you shielding me for the problem. We'll need that out here, as well as complete honesty."

Tuvok nodded, his gaze lowered as the forgiveness she offered sunk in. "Understood Captain."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! I'm so sorry for the delay on this one, Chakotay and Seven will be back for the next chapter, chapter 50! :) I've now got over 100, 000 words chalked up on this one too, thanks for your support everyone! :)**


	50. Allies?

If Chakotay and Seven thought they'd escaped the crackling flames of fear and hostility as Voyager's Bridge was veiled from their eyes by the blue white static of the transporter, they were wrong. If anything, their reappearance on the Valjean set off an inferno of those same emotions through their own crew. "Hands up, we're not surrendering!" Chell declared shrilly as he spun around upon hearing the distinctive buzz of a transporter, shoving the long snout of a 'recycled' Cardassian disruptor towards the materialising arrivals, his hands shaking violently.

Chakotay bit grimly down on the inside of his mouth as he was faced with not only the rocking barrel Chell held, but basically the entirety of the Valjean armoury. "Easy Chell." He said in a low tone, hands in the air for a moment as he watched relief flood his people's faces before they blanched sheepishly in embarrassment, Celes going as far as letting her phaser clatter to the floor.

The indigo of a Bolian blush flushed Chell's sky blue cheeks. "I'm so sorry Chakotay, Seven, I thought…"

Chakotay allowed himself a shaky breath before answering; after all he'd just got off a Starfleet ship unharmed only to narrowly avoid a friendly fire incident. "I know what you thought Chell and its okay, but being trigger happy won't help the situation."

Seska snorted derisively, "It might help get B'Elanna back. How else are we supposed to deal with that interstellar kidnapper? Offer him an amnesty?"

Chakotay felt an odd mix of irritation and defeat as Seska's 'plan' garnered several agitated murmurs of agreement. Seven, if she felt the same, obviously let the irritation win out as her back straightened unconsciously to emphasise her height advantage over the spiky Bajoran, like a cat bristling for a fight. "Our agreement with Voyager's Captain Janeway still stands for the time being, we will work together to recover our respective missing crewmembers." She proclaimed tersely.

Seska started, her gaze rounding on Chakotay in disbelief for a long second before she lashed out at Seven, her phaser resting prominently on her slim hip, hand twitching. "_You _would follow such a suicidal plan, being _one_ is your answer to everything! If you had it your way, we'd be joining the Collective to get B'Elanna back…"

The Valjean fell ominously silent for a moment, the crew expecting an explosion from their Commander. Seska had crossed an invisible but well known line, yet Chakotay's voice, through bubbling with that quiet, channelled wrath, was also hoarse and heavy with a new strain that sent a chill of unease through them all. "That's enough Seska." He ordered darkly, his whole frame stiffening for an instant before a sweeping glance around his crew's conflicted, frightened faces, told him to rein in his reaction. "_I _made the choice to work with Voyager, that was my responsibility." He informed them firmly, his face softening compassionately as his gaze moved from Seska's to encompass every harrowed face on his Bridge. "I know this isn't what you signed up for, I know how all of you feel about Starfleet and the threat they pose to us, but, for now at least, it's not us against them." He heaved a deep breath as he stared at them frankly, about to reveal his inner justification, "I've met the being who brought us here, and the only way we can get out of the trap he's laid for us is to work together, not as enemies but as allies with a shared goal. We're going to get B'Elanna and Janeway's Ensign back, and then we're going to find a way to travel those 75, 000 lightyears."

Ayala nodded slowly, but the frown marring his features didn't smooth away. "What about after we're back in the Alpha Quadrant?" he asked quietly, his pensive gaze not on Chakotay but on the unfamiliar star-scape, gleaming like tiny shards of broken glass on inky, dead black.

Chakotay braced his shoulders, his brown eyes level with the brave questioner but any emotions they held were kept well hidden. His tone was business-like, almost unconcerned, "Then I guess we go back into the Badlands and fight it out, just like we would have if the Caretaker hadn't interfered." His lips twitched for a moment into what could be called a bitter smile, or a grimace. "But he has, and we're going to have our hands full just dealing with the present. Let's leave the future as a bridge we'll cross when we get to it."

Ayala's full lips pursed tightly for a moment as he took in that answer, but even so his head made a respectful nod. Seven felt wary relief diffuse through her as the rest of the crew mirrored Ayala's action, their eyes fixed on Chakotay's resolute face. Standing behind him she was, she saw the muscles of his broad shoulders relax even as his jaw set in determination. In solidarity, she moved herself forward to stand by his side as she too nodded. These votes of confidence brought a new strength to Chakotay's voice, "We will get B'Elannaback from wherever the Caretaker's is holding her. Consider that our mission for now."

"Commander?" Celes asked in a quavering tone, her gulp audible to them all, "Isn't B'Elanna still on the array?"

Chakotay felt his chest tighten, to extent where he was surprised his reply didn't sound breathless. "No, we don't think so, but we'll look everywhere we can. Voyager can help us with that."

"The Delta Quadrant is a big place, and that Caretaker guy just flung two ships a distance that the Valjean couldn't travel in under 100 years." Seska reminded him tersely, "Who knows where he could have sent B'Elanna and Kim?" She let that question sink in for a moment before pressing her final, pragmatic thought, "If we're all going to get out of this alive, then we need to think about using that array to get home ourselves before the esteemed Captain beats us to it."

Chakotay regarded her in stunned dismay, how could she make such an argument when B'Elanna was her supposed best friend? She'd been arguing for an armed battle with the Caretaker only moments before. He recovered quickly however, his voice steely as he answered, "I think we all get home with _both _crews fully intact Seska, and your type of thinking isn't going to help anything."

A collective sigh of agreement rippled through the crew, since most of the crew, despite what they'd been through, were natural optimists. Otherwise they never would've stayed with the movement so many had declared a lost cause. Chell, for one, seemed able now to summon up his sunny disposition that had been hiding behind a cloud of fear and suspicion, "Well, I'm ready for our new mission Chakotay sir, even if I have to picture the Caretaker as a Cardassian to build up the guts to deal with all this."

Excessive laughter, brought on by nerves as well as humour, echoed through the Bridge from almost every mouth. Seven alone remained silent, her mind brooding on how unprepared they all were. As if he could sense her doubts, Chakotay's forced chuckle died on his lips as he glanced at her, his stance immediately stiffening again. "Voyager will be contacting us by comm., to decide on a joint plan." He informed them, "Divert all power to communications and the shields until I say otherwise and get me back in here when Janeway calls." With a jerk of his head towards Seven, he headed hastily towards the tiny back room that served as his ready room, a crew briefing room and an off duty room. He decided to focus on Seven's steady footsteps just behind him rather than the speculative babble that had begun to flow as whispers around the Bridge as soon as he'd started to depart, but Seska's distinctive voice, that had once upon a time set his blood afire with lust, still reached his ears.

"I can try to reconfigure the sensors to scan the surrounding space for B'Elanna…" She suggested quietly, her attractive features carefully contrite and submissive. "That is, if you think we can spare the power, sir."

Chakotay gave her a small smile, trying his best to be understanding. They were all under stress after all, and he knew Seska in particular sensed that she wasn't being fully being taken into the loop. Well, she and the rest of his crew would just have to deal with it for now, debating it out with Seven was enough without revealing his actions to further dissection by his whole crew. "Good idea." He agreed warmly.

Seven left his side in one stride as her eyes narrowed, "I will assist you." She informed Seska, not bothering to restrain the ice in her tone. She didn't trust Seska in any situation and found her sudden about face in attitude deeply suspect.

"Let Seska do it Seven." Chakotay said firmly, trying to be understanding but unable to hide a note of exasperation as he grasped her elbow. "Come on." He muttered, tugging her into the tiny briefing room in desperation, no longer caring if it broke any level of command etiquette or not.

Seven obeyed, Seska immediately an irrelevance in her mind as the doors cocooned the two of them away from the Bridge and she focused on Chakotay alone. As soon as he was out of sight of the others the whole of his strong, indomitable frame seemed to buckle in on itself, his broad shoulders sagging inward as if finally acknowledging the weight they'd been dragging around. The role of leader he took on for the sake of those outside, even successfully holding his own against Janeway, had obviously taken its toll. His breath caught for a moment, his chest rasping until his head dipped towards his knees. "Chakotay…" She began softly, reaching out for him, but he lurched away stubbornly.

"I'm alright!" He snapped, guilt making his handsome face scrunch up as he met her worried, uncertain eyes. Giving in, he sank into the small sofa, grasping his head in his hands. "I'm sorry…" He whispered brokenly. Seven realised the apology wasn't completely for her sake but let him continue. "_I'm _alright, but what about everyone else? What about B'Elanna and Kim?" He looked up at her sadly then, "Tell me Seven, how likely is it that they're alive, that we can get them back?"

Seven regarded him levelly, although she allowed herself a deep breath. "Relatively likely Chakotay, the evidence indicates it. I was no use to the Caretaker and yet I was unharmed, I doubt he'd kill the two individuals he selected as worthy of special attention, for whatever reason."

"His reasons, my father always said you had to understand the other side's reasoning to be able to negotiate." Chakotay mused, "But what could _his _be? Something to do with these Ocampa people?"

Seven nodded, "Almost certainly." She gave a long pause, "When he…successfully resisted the Collective, he gave us…them a message. To paraphrase in human terms, it was that the Ocampa were 'off-limits'. His sole objective seems to be the protection of the Ocampa."

Chakotay nodded slowly, but his next question was still mystified. "But how could dragging two ships from another Quadrant help protect the Ocampa?"

Seven's lips formed a thin, frustrated, line. "I do not know." She conceded, "But his behaviour is intrinsically unpredictable." She blinked hard, her resolve wavering. "Chakotay, even if Captain Janeway _could _him convince to assist us, I am uncertain as to whether he could."

Chakotay remained silent, that was sufficient proof to her that he believed her. "How…how long would it take us to get back without the Caretaker's help?" he asked eventually, barely breathing.

Seven seemed reluctant to answer, regarding him warily, "If the Valjean could be restored to good condition, which is questionable, and could maintain a consistent warp speed, approximately 84 years." She finally admitted grimly.

"And Voyager?" Chakotay prompted.

"Their ship is more efficient technologically, perhaps 73 years at best, but given Janeway's apparent attachment to Starfleet diktat, and its emphasis on exploration, it would most likely take longer."

Chakotay couldn't help but smile slightly as her assessment of Janeway's character. "I don't know, she struck me as pretty determined." He commented, before adding a pinch of his dark humour, "So even if we ended up on Voyager, we'd still be put in a retirement home as soon as we got back."

Seven sighed in response to that remark but focused on his previous one, "Determination can be dangerous in excessive qualities…"

Chakotay gave a dry chuckle, "Seven, determination, or stubbornness is more like it, is one trait you _do _share with Janeway, no doubt." His gaze hardened with determination of his own, "I'm not going back on the agreement, we have no choice but to work with her. It's pure pragmatism, but…"

Seven cut him off, "Your decision has been made clear. We will return to Voyager and decide what to do…"

"I want you to stay here." Chakotay told her harshly.

Seven had to bite back a tart retort; she couldn't believe he was making this argument for the second time in as many hours! Instead, she let the exhaustion that was now flooding her gain some ground and also sank onto the sofa. "Nothing has changed since I prevailed in accompanying you last time, you will require my knowledge."

"Nothing has changed Seven?" Chakotay threw back incredulously, "We know for sure that they know about you now, it isn't safe!" He turned his head to look at her properly and felt something in him weaken as he looked into her pale and, at least to him, expressive face. He hadn't seen her look so troubled since Deep Space Eleven, or maybe even since the attack on Dorvan V, she wasn't going to give in… Changing tact, he said, "Look, maybe you can tell me all you know about the Caretaker and the Ocampa and I can…" She only had to raise an eyebrow for him to sheepishly retract that offer, "Okay, maybe a condensed version of what you know…"

"That will not be enough." Seven retracted, "All of what I know will not be enough, as you said, we must work together." She repositioned to be closer to him, "Chakotay, she didn't know about me. Her reaction was too genuine…" Wonder diffused her voice, "Neither Tom Paris nor Tuvok informed her…"

"Forgive me if I don't bake them a cake." Chakotay remarked bitterly, before regretfully reaching over to take her hand in his, giving the metal riddled limb a comfortable squeeze. "Sorry Seven, I'm glad they've been true friends to _you _at least, but if that's the case Janeway's bound to be even more pissed off and distrustful…"

"Necessity can be a stronger force than trust Chakotay." Seven said ruefully, sighing as she saw the true anxiety in his ever captivating face. "I need not be separated from you, but either way it is not in her interest to harm me."

"Not at the moment maybe." Chakotay muttered under his breath, before submitting to her small concession as the best he would get. She'd already snuck over to the other ship once before after all. "I want you with me the whole time, understand? No wandering off so that some Starfleet puppets can attack you…"

Seven gave her eyes a mild roll, "I'm _twenty two _rather than two years old Chakotay, I will take precautions."

"That's all I'm asking." Chakotay admitted with another tight squeeze of her hand.

Nathaniel Harrow suddenly poked his head through the door, "Captain Janeway is on the comm. Commander, she wants you two to beam back over there."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I really apologise for the lack of updates this week, real life has been a bit trying to say the least. As for the delay for this story, only watching 'Caretaker' again got me over my writer's block, thank goodness for TV on the net… ;) **


	51. Delta Quadrant 101

The only outward sign of Chakotay's inner turmoil Seven noted as she rose to follow him back onto the Valjean's Bridge was the deep breath he took as he reached the threshold of the door, his body shuddering for a split second before he walked out with apparent ease and commanding calm. They were met with an intense, close up frame of Captain Janeway's controlled features. "I hope you've informed your crew of the situation Commander, there have been some…developments." She informed her new ally. The words were seamlessly smooth; it was almost as if they were discussing a new holodeck programme rather than a life-changing, if not life or death, situation. However, Seven could sense intent, testing scrutiny in her gaze and kept her own face blankly stoic as she too watched Chakotay's reaction.

If anything, Chakotay responded more skilfully to Janeway's subtle probing than Seven did, not making any reply until he walked resolutely in front of the viewscreen, giving off an air of someone completely in control of, and comfortable with, his surroundings. Seven couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride in him, as well as a spasm of relief, as she watched him handle the situation. She may not be able to perform social interactions as well as full humans, but she could recognise when others were dancing the delicate moves of diplomacy. "We're ready and waiting here. What have you found out?" Chakotay asked carefully.

"Scans have revealed that the array is sending regular energy bursts down to the planet your Bo…Seven of Nine indicated." Janeway replied, "So that proves that they're undoubtedly linked. Also, it appears that the frequency of these energy bursts is increasing exponentially."

Chakotay studied the woman's attractive face, suddenly aware of the definite pull of empathy. She was as strained as he himself felt. Not that she showed it consciously of course, she was as outwardly professional as he was, but her dark blue eyes were pinched with anxiety, her, probably good natured, mouth was stretched into a taut line and he could see puckers in the epaulets of her uniform where her shoulders had bunched with tension. "And you think these energy bursts could give us an insight into his motives about what he's doing to our people?"

Surprise flickered briefly across Janeway's face. Apparently she hadn't expected their ideas to follow the same route, but perhaps that was justifiable considering their hugely divergent paths in life. "Precisely." She agreed softly, "Where the energy then goes could show us where our people are being held."

"The Caretaker will have provided better protection than that." Seven countered, stepping silently down to join Chakotay at the viewscreen. "It may be possible, eventually, to trace the energy to a specific location but I believe we will need more guidance."

Janeway had flinched minutely at Seven's first interruption but then seemed to ponder her words. "Yes, you're probably right." She admitted slowly, "Although we have already registered several pockets of lifesigns on the planet…" She paused thoughtfully, "He must provide more than energy, the planet's atmosphere lacks any nucleogenic particles…"

Chakotay couldn't hide his disbelief upon hearing that little titbit. "An M-Class planet without nucleogenics?" he echoed incredulously, "That would mean that the planet can't produce a drop of rain…"

"Not one ocean, not one river…" Janeway continued with a wonder filled shake of the head. Abruptly, she turned her questioning gaze on Seven, manicured eyebrows arching, "You wouldn't happen to know what caused that do you?"

Seven lifted her chin slightly as she answered but otherwise remained impassive. "The Collective would have nothing to gain from stripping a planet's atmosphere Captain. Neither do the Borg speculate. How or why the planet lost its nucleogenics was considered utterly irrelevant. They merely recorded the fact as it was."

Chakotay saw Janeway suck an agitated breath in through her pursed lips, and could see that Seven was equally offended by the Captain's question as the older woman was by Seven's detached acquittal of the Collective. "It might not matter, but it's another piece of information to put under our belts." He intervened firmly, glancing between the two women before settling his attention on Janeway once again. "If you want us to properly help in getting more, and acting on that intel, I suggest we come back over to you Captain."

Her face slackened slightly, obviously she preferred real, face to face, conversation compared to the artificial duplicity of a viewscreen and comm. system, however uncomfortable she may have been with Maquis on her new Bridge. "Agreed." She replied swiftly, before adding, "Our sensors tell us that your transporter system is damaged, lower your shields and I'll give you permission to use ours this time."

Chakotay had to bite back a smirk, remembering the shocked expressions on the Voyager Bridge crew's faces as Seven had easily accessed their transporter and had beamed the two of them away on their terms. Something about the Captain's worry told him she was being rather wry about the incident, but she could be a serious rebuke, he didn't know. It would take a longer acquaintance for him to be able to read subtlety in Janeway's smoky voice, but if this worked he shouldn't need to get to know her that well, just enough to cooperate through this, before they were back in the Alpha Quadrant and again on opposite sides. "Thank you." He answered, flawlessly polite, giving her an affirmative nod before she promptly clicked the comm. line off. "Lower shields." He told Harrow, stationed at the appropriate station, quietly.

Harrow blanched, although he hurriedly tried to suppress the reaction. "Com…Completely sir?" he queried shakily.

Chakotay gritted his teeth for a moment, but managed to check the rebuke that was rising in his throat and keep his voice level, merely flicking his head over his shoulder to meet Harrow's gaze. "The shields need to be lowered if Seven and I are going to beam over, and we're going to, understood?"

Harrow ducked his head, a gulp quivering down his throat as he dialled the command into the console. "Shields lowered."

"Good." Chakotay muttered as he pushed his shoulders, again hunching with tension, back as he looked to Seven, "Ready to go?"

Despite his nonchalant tone, Seven knew that he really wanted to say 'Please stay here'. That was one unspoken plea from him that she wasn't willing to obey, for his own good. "Yes Chakotay." She confirmed patiently.

Chakotay gave a jerky, distracted nod. "Okay then. Ayala, you're in command here." As if Voyager's Transporter Chief had heard his words, at that moment they were again enveloped by that familiar momentary emptiness of transporter transit.

* * *

><p>Janeway was standing almost exactly where they'd left her, in that enshrined area between her Captain's chair and the comm. station, the centre of the Bridge and her world. She was keenly aware of her outer surroundings however; as soon as she saw the electrical snow that heralded a successful transport at the edge of her peripheral vision her head had snapped around to access them before her visitors' own vision had even cleared. "I really would like us to work together Commander Chakotay." She said softly by way of greeting, "Did your crew have any insights from their experiences on the array that could shed any light on what we should do?"<p>

Chakotay shook his head regretfully as he made the decision to walk across the room and join her in the centre. "No, they were left as disorientated as your crew, Seven and I had to explain the situation…"

Janeway frowned uneasily, anticipating trouble with Chakotay's undisciplined rebels. "You reported our conversation with the Caretaker?"

"I told them what they needed to know." Chakotay replied coolly, irritated that this woman could make him feel guilty for hiding the exact ins and outs of the situation from his crew.

"Okay." Janeway murmured in an understanding voice, her eyes lingering for a moment before they swept over Seven warily, "Your background could provide us with a lot of information, do you have anything else to share?"

"I have relayed everything I found to be relevant Captain." Seven answered firmly, her own gaze busily scanning the consoles in the room once more. "When I have more details about our situation I will hopefully be able to 'share' more information with you." As she spoke, she was already heading for what her eidetic memory told her should be the Operations console. The Crewman manning it immediately jumped aside as she approached, but she almost didn't notice as her senses focused greedily on the console, already anticipating the new data she could coax out of the sensors, five times more advanced that the ones on the Valjean…

Captain Janeway however, _had _noticed. "That's Ensign Kim's station." She informed her sharply without missing a beat.

Ensign Kim isn't here. Seven's mental retort was equally sharp, but Chakotay's pointed glance her way made her re-think saying it aloud. A sigh rose in her throat but she looked at Janeway's distrustful expression and sensed the blatant fear of the others without needing to see it, she considered what she was doing. If a Starfleet officer had had the temerity to take over B'Elanna's place on the Valjean she would've acted as the Captain was. Lifting her hands away from the console and holding them behind her back, she stepped gracefully away from the console. "I apologise." She murmured regretfully, holding Chakotay's eye rather than Janeway's, "But at this station is where my expertise can be of most use for the time being." She straightened her back to look over Janeway's head and at the array filling the viewscreen, "I assure you that Ensign Kim will find the console undamaged when he returns."

Janeway's stance softened as she heard sincerity, if awkwardly expressed, in the girl's voice and manner. She had noticed that it was Chakotay's significant glance over his shoulder at his crewmate, rather than her rebuke, that had elicited the climb down. She almost smiled to herself, Tom and Tuvok hadn't been exaggerating their respective influence over each other by a long shot. "I'm sure Harry will appreciate that." She remarked thoughtfully before finally giving a permissive nod of her head, "Use your expertise as you will…" She looked to Chakotay again, "…both of you."

"Thank you." Chakotay replied, apparently for the two of them, since Seven was already bowed back over the console.

Janeway shrugged it off, "We're two crews working together to get home."

Seven's interruption didn't give that statement the deserved time to sink in. "I'm reading a small vessel in the debris field just beyond the array."

"She is correct Captain." Tuvok intoned, wearing, Chakotay noticed, the uniform that just a few hours ago he never would've believed belonged to the Vulcan. "It is warp capable, with one unknown humanoid lifesign aboard."

"Hail them Mr Tuvok." Janeway ordered decisively, "We're in desperate need of some local neighbourhood knowledge."

"Comm. line open Captain." Tuvok confirmed.

For a moment, the image that appeared on the viewscreen was blurry and lopsided; the only sounds were a few agitated bumps as someone hastily righted the camera. Quickly, an utterly alien face came entirely into focus. "I claimed this waste field first!" The, obviously male, voice of the alien hissed defensively.

Janeway quickly but smoothly reacted, "We have no interest in your…debris." She assured him carefully, "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship U.S.S Voyager."

The man blinked his vividly amber eyes, a nervous chuckle shaking his stocky frame. "Well, that certainly sounds like an impressive title…" He mused, "As long as you're really not interested in my…debris then it's a pleasure to know you!" His tone became bright and friendly so quickly that Chakotay gave a start as the man's broad face stretched into an easy, open smile. "I'm Neelix."

Neelix was certainly nothing like Chakotay had seen before. His face had all the main human characteristics as well as eyes, a prominent, narrow nose, and almost web like ears close to the side of head. The most striking thing about him apart from his cat like orange eyes were the spots that covered most of the top part of his head, flowing up the edge of where a human's hairline would be. Neelix's hair was a thick mohawk over the middle of his head and down his back. Tufty, and fawn in colour, it somewhat reminded Chakotay of a mane. Janeway, Chakotay was gladly allowing her to handle this, wasn't allowing herself to be distracted by the idea of First Contact with a species from the Delta Quadrant. "Mr Neelix, do you know anything about the array between us?"

"I know enough to stay well away from it." Neelix responded seriously, before a thoughtful frown marred his wide forehead, "Wait, has your ship been brought here from your home by the array against your will?"

"Yes!" The Captain replied desperately, "Do you know anything about that?"

"Only that the Caretaker, that's the being how lives on the array, has been bringing ships here for months, for whatever reason." Neelix said with a heavy sigh. "I guess you've had crewmembers taken too?" he added sympathetically.

"We have." Janeway confirmed tightly, "Do you have any idea where the Caretaker may have taken them?"

"They always seem to be sent to the Ocampa, why I have no idea."

"We've heard of these Ocampa, that they live on the planet below us." Janeway told him, "Do you know these Ocampa? Can you help us contact them?"

Neelix heaved a reticent sigh, "I do have some friends among the Ocampa, but…" He gave Janeway a long look, "I have all this waste to collect…"

"We can make a trade with you to make it worth your while." Janeway jumped in quickly. Honey over vinegar, the first rule of diplomacy, she recalled wryly.

"Trade?" Neelix echoed, his whole frame perking up at the word, but then he seemed to fall back into reluctance. "Well, I have everything I really need…" His voice trailed off for a moment and he leaned conspiratorially into the camera, "Unless you happen to have…_water_…"

Janeway was sorely tempted to laugh, or at least raise her eyebrows. He was talking as if he was requesting illicit drugs, rather than the source of all humanoid life. "Neelix…" She began, keeping a poker straight face, "If you help us find the Ocampa, you can have all the water you want."

Neelix practically rocked back and forth with delight. "Then we have a deal!" he declared vibrantly before a thought passing over his easy to read face made him suddenly serious again, even nervy. "Water is a very precious resource around these parts you see, we'll…we'll need it to get to the Ocampa…"

"Wouldn't it be more accurate to say that we will need the water to get past the Kazon?" Seven challenged him, her head cocked ever so slightly to the side as she gave Neelix one of her most penetrating stares.

Janeway started to spin around to ask the drone what the hell she was playing at but stopped as she caught Neelix's reaction out of the corner of her eye. His complexion, unknown to her through it was, had visibly paled and his distinctive eyes were wide and darting. The Borg had caught him out, at…something. Thankfully, Neelix was the type to spill once cornered. "Yes…Yes, you have a point there, a point I was rather remiss in not mentioning…" He choked out a broken, embarrassed chuckle, "You see, as far as I'm aware, the Ocampa live underground, I've only ever met one, her name is Kes…" If Janeway was any judge, Neelix became positively dreamy as he reverentially murmured the name, "She managed to find a way out of the Ocampa's city to reach the surface, but was captured almost immediately by that brute Jaibin and his clan…"

"Which sect claims the planet?" Seven demanded.

"Jaibin is the Mage of the Kazon Olga." Neelix answered despairingly, "He'll almost certainly free Kes if I offer enough water, it's such a desert down there, cormaline deposits or not…"

"Wait, wait!" Janeway cut in, her frustration building, "You want water from us to save your friend, this Kes, and if I understand you right, then she's an Ocampa?"

Neelix smiled then, "Yes, and surely the sweetest example of her people, there could be no better."

"Didn't he say she was the only Ocampa he'd met?" Tom pointed out, before being hastily hushed by Janeway.

"Mr Neelix…" She began, "If we could help you free Kes from the Kazon, do you think she'd be willing to help us reach the Ocampa's settlement?"

"Oh yes!" Neelix agreed eagerly, perhaps a little too quickly, "As I said, she's the swe…"

"The sweetest of her people, we know." Janeway finished kindly, "If you would be willing to let us beam you over to this ship then we could arrange the water and an appropriate plan…"

"Beam?" Neelix echoed curiously.

"We have a technology which can instantaneously transport a person from one place, one ship, to another." Janeway explained patiently, "It's completely harmless I assure you, may we?"

"Of course!" Neelix laughed excitedly, "I'm looking forward to it already! Neelix out."

As soon as the viewscreen went blank Janeway could finally turn to stare Seven down, "You knew that the Ocampa were a subterranean species?" she asked in disbelief.

"The Borg suspected they were, but it could not be confirmed, the Caretaker shielded the planet from the Borg vessels' sensors before destroying them." Seven replied, unshaken by Janeway's manner. "I could read lifesigns on the planet using the Valjean's sensors, but only Voyager's more accurate scans told me it was Kazon on the surface rather than Ocampa."

"And who are the Kazon, Seven?" Chakotay asked quietly as he waited for the Captain to recover her composure.

"The dominant warp culture in this region of the Quadrant." Seven answered him promptly, "Not particularly advanced, a violent, disparate and stagnant culture. They were found to make inferior drones in many respects and few are assimilated…"

"Lucky them." Tom Paris muttered tersely, "No offence Seven."

Seven merely inclined her head towards him, metallic eyebrow slightly arched. "None taken Mr Paris." She responded drily, and Janeway realised that the girl probably had more experience of Tom's sense of humour than she did. "Whatever the Collective believe, that the Kazon are detrimental to their perfection, the Kazon are still extremely dangerous. They would launch war for much less than an Ocampa they considered their slave being freed, and the one thing the Kazon culture has perfected is efficiency in warfare, the Ogla sect is no exception."

Janeway took a deep breath, "We'll take that advice under consideration." She conceded stiffly, "What about Neelix's species, are they considered particularly dishonest?"

Seven shrugged, "He is a Talaxian, a species I would say is as inclined towards honesty as humans, perhaps more so since there are very few still living. Mr Neelix strikes me as a particularly…jocular example."

Chakotay gave her a small smile, "Jocular maybe isn't the word I would use, more like hyperactive maybe."

Janeway exhaled heavily, "Be that as it may, but he's agreed in good faith to help us." She nodded to Tuvok, "Mr Tuvok, go and greet our visitor in Transporter Room 2 please."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D In my humble opinion, this chapter chalks up as Seven: 1 Janeway: 0, lol. 'Caretaker' is a complicated arc, but hopefully I can get to the meat of Season 1 soon, 'merging' the crews, AU style. ;) **


	52. Diplomacy for Foes and Friends

"Well, that 'transporter' is certainly as smooth as you claimed Captain!" Neelix declared as he entered the Bridge with Tuvok trailing vigilantly behind him, "It's simply amazing, perhaps my fears about the Kazon were unfounded considering the technology you seem to have at your disposal…"

Janeway gave him a small smile. The man was practically bouncing with enthusiasm she wished she could share; hope shining from his amber eyes. "I wouldn't go that far Mr Neelix, but thank you for the vote of confidence." She replied warmly before arching a subtle eyebrow in Tuvok's direction, his face was superficially as impassive as ever but she knew him well enough to spot the lines of irritation puckering his lips as he watched Neelix's antics.

"Do you think you would be able 'beam' Kes up from the surface without any of us needing to deal with the Kazon?" Neelix suggested thoughtfully after a short pause to admire the technological splendour that was Voyager's Bridge.

Janeway blinked, pleasantly surprised by his insight. There was obviously a highly resourceful and observant man underneath the veneer of exuberance. It seemed Tuvok would need to hide his exasperation with him for a little while longer. "That would be the easiest option…" She admitted slowly, realising with a tinge of embarrassment that she wasn't sure whether Voyager's transporters were capable of pinpointing one member of an unknown species over the area of an entire planet. In time, hopefully in the peace of the Alpha Quadrant, she would learn everything about this ship… Awkwardly, she flicked her gaze to the one person she knew would be most likely to be able to answer the question, "Seven of Nine…" She cleared her throat as the blonde regarded her coolly, "What do you think?"

"The shields the Caretaker seems to have erected to keep the Kazon out of the Ocampa's subterranean settlement are interfering with the focus of the transporter's sensors even on the surface of the planet. The system would need a locator signal, such as a comm. badge, to lock onto any specific lifesigns." Seven answered comprehensively.

Janeway thought she could see a hint of her own disappointment in the girl's pinched gaze, but quickly dismissed the suspicion as she addressed Neelix, and the wider Bridge crew, with a heavy sigh, although she tried to keep her tone upbeat, "It looks like we're going to have to rely on some old fashioned diplomacy this time." She paused to decide an appropriate away team, "Mr Neelix, Tuvok, Paris, Chakotay and Seven, report with me to Transporter Room 2. We don't have any time to lose."

"Agreed." Chakotay said swiftly, now beyond quibbling over her style. He joined the newly formed group as they all headed after Janeway into the turbolift, but despite the sudden current of frenetic activity, he still noted a shudder of foreboding rippling over Seven's shapely frame as she left the Ops station to follow. Wordlessly, he placed a steadying hand on the small of her back as he murmured near her ear, "What are the chances that the Kazon will be receptive to 'old fashioned diplomacy'?"

Seven sighed sharply, holding her eyes away from his. "Non-existent." She answered tightly.

Chakotay took a deep breath as she moved away from him and his hands shifted to re-set his phaser from stun to kill. "Understood." He muttered grimly.

* * *

><p>They were beamed onto a dead husk of a world. Any natural life that may once had been there had long since been burned away by the sun, the planet's dysfunctional atmosphere allowing the heat to become constant and relentless. The winds, never reined in by moisture, were fiercely blowing the ashes of this once verdant world around as dust which stung the away team's eyes and baked their mouths as dry as the ground at their feet. "God, why would any species get territorial about this place?" Tom asked, his voice rendered hoarse by the harsh environment, having to shout to be heard even though no one was more than half a metre from his side.<p>

"It's hard to believe I know, but in this region this planet is a prize of sorts." Neelix replied as he strode forward with all the confidence offered by familiarity, "The cormaline deposits here can be traded for food and water. Generally that's how the Kazon work, one sect will have access to water, another to a food source and yet another to minerals. Their society is based on bartering, well fighting over, those resources." He paused to let rather unpromising assessment sink into the minds of his new friends before pointing through the orange haze, "That's Jaibin's main settlement. Kes _should_..." His voice shook slightly, "…still be there."

Janeway squinted painfully through the sun's glare and the disguising clouds of dust to follow Neelix's gesture, feeling a shot of warning adrenaline as she indeed could make out a cluster of dumpy, wind bitten buildings, carved with difficulty out of the desert to both provide some level of protection from the environment and blend in with it. "You take the lead here Neelix, since you know this…Jaibin."

A nervous smile that set alarms ringing in her head stretched across Neelix's wide features at her endorsement, and she was pretty sure she saw the rest of the away team's, even Tuvok's, eyes widen in trepidation, but it was too late to retract the offer. Hulking figures she could only assume were Kazon were already approaching them. "Who dares trespass on land claimed in blood by the Kazon Ogla?" A gravelly voice, harsh as sandpaper, demanded irately.

"Jaibin, my old friend!" Neelix called back congenially, his badly shaking arms held open as a nervous hiccup rattled his frame.

Jaibin strode forward, his stance conveying an idea of someone completely confident in his superiority. If he was a typical example of a Kazon then she could see why they inspired some fear. Towering even over the men in their group, his muscles were as thick as ropes in his limbs, Jaibin certainly was intimidating. He obviously didn't live like a king over his clan however though; the clothing over his cinnabar red skin was almost as ragged as those of the underlings bunched around him, that deprivation perhaps opened a window for negotiation…. "I warned you not to return here Talaxian!" he snarled, spitting out the name Neelix's species like a curse. The Kazon Ogla immediately fanned out around him, seizing Neelix before any members of the away team could react to protect him.

Neelix however scrambled free, skidding in the sand as he lifted up his hands in supplication. "You don't understand Jaibin; I have water with me this time…to replace all that I borrowed…" He flinched back as Jaibin raised the club clenched in one hand to strike him, "My new friends, these Federations, have technology which creates water out of _thin air_…"

The Kazon around him laughed disbelievingly, but one gesture from Jaibin brought a complete, uniform silence. He glared down at Neelix for a moment, his thick brows knotting in thought, his nostrils flaring like a hound straining for a scent as he lifted keen, sharp eyes to Janeway. "What would people who can _create _water at will want on this dying world?" he asked suspiciously, now ignoring Neelix as if he'd blown away on the wind.

Janeway knew it was time for her to step up and did so, although she was both surprised and relieved to sense Chakotay standing at her shoulder, phaser ready as she took on the role of peaceful ambassador. "We're looking for the Ocampa; do you know where we could find them?"

"The Ocampa?" Jaibin echoed incredulously, a brash laugh rattling his huge chest. "What do you want with that worthless breed?" He swung his massive arm around to point accusingly at a slight figure peeking out at the group from behind a crumbling wall, "_She _is Ocampa. We found her when she came above ground, useless and empty headed! They make terrible servants and live for only nine years…"

Janeway dragged her gaze away from his distracting features, his swinging dreads of hair, which uncharitably reminded her of a mangy dog, to focus on the girl she immediately knew was Kes. She was a petite, elfin beauty. Her delicate features, emphasised by the pixie cut of her blonde hair, were particularly poignant since her face was especially bruised, one eye swollen almost completely closed. Janeway saw through Jaibin's 'empty headed' comment at once, the girl's clear gaze showed presence of mind, she wasn't cowed by her obviously desperate situation. "Two of our people have been taken by the Caretaker, and we believe they're with the Ocampa now. If you'd allow this girl to show us the way to them, we'd be very grateful…"

Jaibin grunted, "We have already tried to force her to tell us how to reach the Ocampa, but she will not! Their alien protector has given them access to the only water on this world, and with that array up there to do his bidding he also sends them power we can only dream of!" As if to prove his point, at that moment a blast of white hot electrical power slammed into the desert floor before being somehow absorbed.

"Then what use is she to you now?" Neelix questioned pointedly, "You could have enough water to last you for a year or more in exchange for one scrawny little thing…"

Jaibin's gaze flickered briefly to Neelix before settling challengingly on Janeway again, who responded with a brusque nod before striking her comm. badge, "Voyager, transport the water as planned."

Six huge crates materialised behind them almost immediately, and Tom decided to prove the validity of the offer by filling his canteen at one of them before handing it to Jaibin, who suspiciously sniffed the contents before taking a hurried sip, his disbelief evident as he swallowed. "How can this be?" he demanded in a fit of jealous, incredulous rage. "How can anyone have such miraculous technology?"

Janeway was unmoved by his outburst. "I presume we have a deal then?" she asked coolly.

Jaibin's eyes narrowed in calculation, a smirk pulling at his bloated features. "I think the only deal we will have is if you give us this technology that can create water."

Janeway bristled as she glared up at him, "I'm afraid we can do that." She countered icily, "The technology is integrated into our ship's systems, we can't just remove it…"

"Then I suppose we _don't _have a deal." Jaibin sneered, "If you aren't willing to share then you are not welcome in Kazon Ogla territory."

"_No_!" Neelix yelled forcefully, "I'm not leaving!" With surprising speed and agility he threw himself behind Jaibin, wildly firing his new phaser as he did so. The deadly scorch of the beam, which instantly bored a perfect hole into one of the water containers, shocked him almost as much as the Kazon but he had the presence of mind to hold the weapon to Jaibin's neck rather than drop it as was his first panicked impulse. "Drop your weapons!" he hissed at the Kazon as they started to surround his companions.

Jaibin's eyes were bulging out of his head as he felt the still hot barrel of the phaser pressed against his jugular. "Do as he says!" he ordered, his voice edged with a squeak of terror.

His people dispersed at once, more concerned with salvaging the precious water that was rapidly pooling and evaporating on the thirsty sand. Neelix took the chance to call out to Kes, "Come on!" The girl sprinted to his side, embracing him tightly just as Janeway hastily ordered for them all to be beamed back to Voyager.

* * *

><p>"Your actions were ill-considered Mr Neelix." Tuvok remonstrated with the Talaxian as the away team crowded curiously around Kes' biobed, "It was illogical to use such a dangerous tactic with the Kazon when the Captain's negotiations were still ongoing…"<p>

"I couldn't leave Kes there for a second longer!" Neelix defended himself passionately, rubbing Kes' back anxiously as she began to sit up, "And besides, Jaibin has never responded well to negotiation before."

"Perhaps not how you negotiate…" Tuvok replied with gravity.

"Please calm down, everyone is safe from the Kazon now, it doesn't matter how we got out of it." Janeway cut in tersely before regarding Kes kindly, having already explained their central dilemma to the young Ocampa. "Kes, can you explain to us what happened to you? How you got to the surface?"

"I…" Kes began with nervous eagerness, only for the Emergency Medical Hologram to testily interrupt.

"This patient needs rest! Everyone not in urgent need of medical treatment is to leave my Sickbay immediately!" he demanded imperiously.

Janeway stared at him for second. Sure, there was no helping a humanoid doctor's personality, but it seemed that this hologram's designers had gone out of their way to make it particularly self-important and pompous. "Computer, deactivate the Emergency Medical Hologram!" she ordered swiftly.

Seven watched the hologram's face stiffen in offence before he disappeared with a twinge of dry amusement. "The effectiveness of that hologram as a doctor will be adversely affected if you always ignore his advice." She commented detachedly.

Janeway shot her an irritated sidelong glance, "We have bigger things to worry about than that right now." She muttered before turning back to Kes, "Go ahead Kes, anything you tell us would be helpful."

Kes smiled at her gratefully as she began, "Well, there aren't many Ocampa who ever try to leave the safety of the city, but I longed to see the sun. I was always told that curiosity was my worst failing…"

"Oh no, it's a wonderful quality." Neelix broke in softly, "One of your most endearing."

"We Starfleet officers have to have curiosity in spades." Janeway assured her understanding, "Now, can you tell us how we could reach our people?"

"They're probably being held in the hospital, that's where the other people the Caretaker sent to us stayed." Kes replied thoughtfully, "There's a barrier all around the planet keeping the Ocampa in and threats like the Kazon out…"

"That's what's blocking our transporters." Chakotay remarked tightly.

"Over the years though, the system has aged and there are small gaps in the barrier, that's how I got out." Kes elaborated, "I could try to show you…"

"No!" Neelix exclaimed, "Now that you're free of the Kazon we can leave on my ship just like we planned…"

Kes' gentle face hardened in disapproval, "They saved me Neelix!"

Neelix stiffened in hurt, "_I _saved you!"

"With _their _help." Kes reminded him, "It would be wrong not to help them now."

Janeway gave Kes' small shoulder a grateful squeeze, "I'm glad you feel that way Kes."

Seven decided it was time to return to return directly to the issue at hand, "I will scan the surface for defects in the barrier large enough to be penetrated by the transporter." She informed Janeway stiffly.

"Good idea." Janeway agreed, her voice warmed with hope.

Just as Seven started to turn away, Kes addressed her, "Excuse me, but are you a different species from the rest of your crew? You look almost the same, but…"

Seven tensed as she slowly turned back to answer the question, sensing Chakotay stiffen protectively beside her, as he always did when someone questioned her origins. As unthreatening as the Ocampa woman seemed, the reaction of someone to the news of a Borg in their midst could never be predicted. "I was Borg."

Kes' face remained blankly unenlightened by the comment, her blue eyes blinking up at her with curiosity and utter guilelessness. "Who are the Borg?" she asked innocently.

Seven stared at her with an equal lack of comprehension, pity and jealousy spiking painfully within her. Kes didn't know of, let alone fear, the Borg? Had her life really been so blissfully sheltered? Seven felt an irrational anger at her naivety, was getting a look at Ocampa's relentless sun worth giving up such a protected life? Finally, she replied through gritted teeth, "I suggest that you do not allow your curiosity to extend to the Borg, for your own good."

Chakotay glanced between the two women for a moment before quickly grasping Seven's wrist to bring her out of herself, giving Kes a reassuring glance as he did so. "Come on Seven." He advised, giving her a gentle tug, "Let's go and run those scans."

Seven bowed her head, feeling a little dazed before refocusing on him. "Of course." She mumbled as she turned on her heel and left Sickbay behind.

* * *

><p>"Wow…" Chakotay breathed, unable to stop himself, despite the circumstances, from being awestruck by the Ocampa's underground world. Yes, the rock supporting the desert above served as its oppressive sky, but everything else about it was a work of art, and peaceful too. Sleek white buildings, cosy public spaces, manicured parks and flowing fountains, it did look artificial in some way and see could see why Kes had been intrigued by the thought of the surface, but after three years of cramped living in the Valjean this place could have been heaven.<p>

"They do not appreciate what they have here." Seven muttered darkly, a haunted expression in her pale eyes, and Chakotay knew she was thinking of the worlds they'd seen utterly ravaged by the Cardassians.

"I'm sure most of them do." He responded with a hint of reprimand, "They may have safety here, but they're also totally at the mercy of the Caretaker's whims, you and I would both hate that."

"Yes…" Seven conceded with a sigh, reluctantly accepting his point, "My judgement has no bearing on this situation."

Chakotay chuckled, she was always so reticent in defeat. "I wouldn't say that, I'm just saying that you have to cut them some slack, they haven't seen what we've seen."

Kes, Tom and Neelix rejoined the away team, the same group who had faced the Kazon, with their faces flushed with the exertion of running around the settlement in search of Harry and B'Elanna. "They left the hospital hours ago." Kes reported, "Everyone seems to believe they've escaped."

"How do you think they'd do that?" Captain Janeway questioned her urgently.

"Probably the same way I did, by going up one of the old evacuation tunnels." Kes replied with some confidence.

"Tom, you go with Kes and Neelix to start checking them out while the rest of us keep looking here." Janeway ordered briskly.

"I should join them, I have enhanced my tricorder to seek their lifesigns specifically and my optical implant allows me to see the defects in the barrier." Seven told her, already moving forward to join Tom and the others.

"Then I'll…" Chakotay started, taking a step to follow her before Captain Janeway's hand stopped him.

"Go on then, we'll keep in contact by comm." She told the separating group, "The rest of us will see what we can find out here." She waited until the four of them had disappeared out of sight before striding forward, glad when Chakotay didn't argue further to remain guarding his Borg and fell into step with herself and Tuvok.

The boardwalk under their feet quivered with another blast of energy from the array to the city, the frequency of the blasts had increased threefold even since they'd arrived, and it seemed to bring a conclusion to Tuvok's lips, "Captain, I believe I now know the rationale behind the Caretaker's actions."

"Enlighten us Mr Tuvok." Chakotay urged, unconsciously speeding up as another explosion wracked their surroundings.

With his Captain's nod, Tuvok consented, "I believe the Caretaker is dying. I speculate that the 'debt that can never be repaid' is to the Ocampa, and that his current actions are all designed to prolong their survival after he is gone."

"Sending them five years worth of energy, sealing the conduits so that the Kazon can't get in here, it makes sense." Chakotay agreed grimly.

"What doesn't make sense is how bringing our ships here could possibly help the Ocampa!" The Captain exclaimed in exasperation, her face paling with dread as she drove the final point home to them, "And if he dies, how the hell are we supposed to get home?"

* * *

><p>"I see a ruptured barrier 1.2 metres ahead Mr Paris." Seven reported tightly as she paused halfway down the rock shaft, the fifth one they'd scoured for signs of Harry and B'Elanna's possible escape route.<p>

Tom squinted painfully ahead until he caught a glimpse of a flickering forcefield, "I see it. Do you think the crack is wide enough?"

"I believe so." Seven answered cautiously as they crept closer to the barrier, now able to clearly hear its warning crackle.

Kes leaned tight against the wall, contorting herself for slipping through the gap between the barrier and the wall. "Be careful, we were told that touching it would burn the flesh off your bones."

Tom grimaced as he started to follow her, "Great." He muttered sarcastically.

Neelix had just been the last of the four of them to make it through when Tom's comm. badge came to life with the Captain's voice. "Tom, interference from the Caretaker sealing the power conduits is blocking the transporters. We're all going to have to escape to the surface before Voyager can lock on to us."

"Understood." Tom replied, "We think we've found the tunnel Harry and B'Elanna must've used Captain and we've made it through the barrier…"

"Good, we'll be right behind you." Janeway said in relief, "Janeway out."

Seeing that the other three had frozen at the news of the loss of the transporter safety net, Tom urged them on, "We're nearly out of this mess if we can find Harry and B'Elanna."

"There are the stairs!" Seven announced, sprinting off towards the soaring, but decidedly neglected looking flights of metal stairs that wound precariously up the rock towards a small hole where sunlight streamed through.

"God…" Tom muttered as he moved to follow her up, the first step almost giving way under his weight, "You'd think that with all his technology the Caretaker would be able to build a less…rickety flight of stairs."

Seven's lips curled inwards in agreement but only said, "I believe they were only intended for one use."

"Still, that's no excuse for shoddy workmanship…" Tom countered with a weak laugh that somehow echoed all the way up the shaft, alerting someone above.

"Tom?" Harry's voice, weakened with exhaustion travelled down to their ears and the group looked up to see Ensign Harry Kim half collapsed on a miniscule landing two flights above them, B'Elanna Torres trying to crawl on a few steps further up.

"Harry, B'Elanna!" Tom cried out, overjoyed, "Long time no see!" he joked as he and his four companions hurriedly scrambled to reach their fallen comrades.

"You really couldn't make another friend on Voyager could you?" Harry wheezed as Tom started to lift him up. He was then distracted for a moment as Seven and Kes went past him to attend to B'Elanna and Neelix held him up by the other arm.

"You've got that right, I just couldn't afford to lose my one confirmed friend on that ship." Tom teased with a grunt as he and Neelix began to heave Harry up the stairs.

"I never thought I'd be so glad to see you." B'Elanna commented wryly as Seven began to help her.

"You should be glad, our window to escape is rapidly closing." Seven replied before tapping her comm. badge, "Chakotay, we have located Torres and Kim and are now assisting them to reach the surface."

"We're in the tunnel now, so we're just behind you." Chakotay assured her, "Just go on ahead and get them medical treatment."

"Understood." Seven replied apprehensively before turning her attention back to helping Kes with B'Elanna. With a great deal of effort on all sides they dragged themselves out and onto the surface, all six of them bunching together to be beamed up just when a huge explosion roared inside the tunnel they'd just left. Feeling faint for a moment as she slammed her hand against her comm. badge, Seven called, "Chakotay! Chakotay, please respond!" The silence was ominous and enough of a threat to send her running back towards the tunnel.

Tom paused to hail the others before following her, "Captain Janeway, Tuvok, Chakotay, anyone!" he shouted down the comm. line before turning resolutely to the others, "We have to go back…"

Neelix gaped as he saw Seven throw herself back down into the now smoking tunnel and that Tom was intent on doing the same. "Don't be fools, they're probably already…" Seeing Kes' devastated expression, he stopped himself and stood up, "All fools need company!"

"Voyager, lock on to Kes' comm. badge and been the three lifesigns up!" Tom ordered, not even waiting to see if the order had been carried out before he and Neelix followed Seven back into the tunnel.

Everything was so obscured by dust and smoke, and the staircase had weakened further, that Seven wasn't much further ahead and they caught up with her in time to see Janeway, dazed with a concussion of her own, trying to help an almost unconscious Tuvok up the stairs. "Chakotay's trapped…" She choked out breathlessly as Neelix moved in to help her.

Tom held Seven back as she lurched forward in driven panic at those words, "Seven and I will get him Captain. You and Tuvok go with Neelix."

He barely had time to see the Captain nod before having to trail down after Seven, who froze as Chakotay's predicament became clear. He was half hanging off a particularly precarious part of the stair, it was only thinly connected to the parts above. His leg was even more mangled than what he clung to, twisted in a violent break. "We have to save him…" Seven forced out as she started over the failing structure, her strides determined but careless in her consuming anxiety.

"I'll go!" Tom suggested rashly when he saw how dangerously wound up she was. He surprised himself by being able to meet her vicious glare levelly, "We both know he'd rather I risk dying than you." He told her firmly, "And you're too involved to be careful, or just save yourself if you have to."

"But he_ must _be saved!" Seven snapped before nodding her head as she saw his rationale, her eyes were already blurred with tears that made it difficult to see Chakotay, she wasn't a fit rescuer. Still, she couldn't bear to leave. She stared down at the pitched stairs on which all of their lives depended, "I will find a way to stabilise the structure while you get to him."

"Right." Tom agreed, watching her shaking form kneel down to grasp the flailing metal in her enhanced, inhumanly strong hands, keeping it level as he started across it to Chakotay.

"What the hell are you doing Paris?" Chakotay ground out as he made out Tom's approach, "If it collapses, we'll both be killed."

"Seven's trying her best to make sure it doesn't collapse." Tom muttered back as he crept towards him, the shaft rocking again as a section of stair somewhere below them gave way.

"_Seven_?" Chakotay choked out in horror, straining his eyes to see her and almost letting go of the platform he clung to for survival as he spotted her, her golden head glinting even under a coat of dust that had turned her almost completely grey. "Seven, get out of here!" he shouted at her hoarsely, his temper somehow managing to boil even in this desperate situation when she just hunkered down more, "Seven of Nine, I'm _ordering _you to get out of here right now!" he screamed at her irately, tears of fear and rage burning in his eyes as he squinted at her stubborn form up ahead, "Seven, for God's sake…"

"I suggest you give that up and start trying to save yourself instead by helping me help you." Tom advised him shakily as he continued to shuffle closer.

"The only way you can help me now is if you go back and _drag _her out of here, knock her out if you have to!" Chakotay snarled at him impatiently.

Tom snorted, "As if I'd ever be able to do that, Seven could kill me with one blow if she wanted and will if I leave you down here to rot. Besides that, isn't there some ancient Indian tradition that if I save your life then it belongs to me forever? Being able to hold that over your bloated Maquis head would make this all worthwhile…"

"Wrong tribe." Chakotay informed him icily, grunting in pain.

"Oh, I don't think so…" Tom threw back as he finally reached him and grabbed hold, "Now let's go!"

"Alright, I'm willing to risk taking you with me when I die…" Chakotay ground out, managing to support himself enough with Tom's help to hobble back towards Seven, whose unrelenting grip was obviously one of the only things keeping the section from collapsing. As soon as they stepped over to join her, she let go and it fell into the void below. Chakotay wasn't focused on contemplating his near miss though, by sheer will, although Tom was basically the only thing holding him upright, he seized hold of Seven and shoved her ahead of them with all the strength he still possessed. "_What the hell were you thinking_?" he shouted at her, "I know Paris is an idiot but you're not…"

Seven didn't bother to dignify that with a response as they reached the top of the tunnel and Voyager's transporter carried them to safety.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm so sorry for the lack of updates, it's been over a week since I posted anything… All I can blame is my tiredness from travel and minor internet issues, sigh. As for how long you've been waiting for this chapter in particular, that was just writer's block. It took me a while to think of a way to write these necessary 'nuts and bolts' scenes of Caretaker that are necessary to the plot but don't leave much room for C/7. In the end I just delayed posting to add that last scene, that made all the canon stuff worth writing for me. ;) **


	53. A Crackerjack Borg

**A/n: New C/7 story alert! It's not mine, but spending a relaxing afternoon yesterday reading it rather than typing did delay me a little, lol. It was totally worth it though, 'To the Punch' by Anniexus is amazing! A 26,000 word rollercoaster of C/7 fluff and drama, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did, and that you like this chapter from me too of course.**

"Bend your knee." Voyager's holographic doctor instructed bluntly as he ran his medical tricorder precisely over his new patient's, he gathered his name was Chakotay, newly repaired leg to check for further injury. Captain Janeway hadn't been generous enough with her time to explain why he, the _sole _medical practitioner on this ship for the time being, had been inundated with patients who were not included anywhere on the crew manifest and who in fact were quick to answer 'no' when he asked, justifiably he believed, if they were connected to Starfleet at all. It was a good thing for them that he was programmed to treat all-comers, although he was quite certain that any doctor would've been intrigued by the disease he'd just treated in…Ensign Kim and a young woman of mixed Klingon and human heritage. The attempt at gene manipulation would have made veterans of the Eugenics Wars quiver in their boots, but since it was in the early stages it hadn't been _too_ demanding to restore them. Not that either patient appeared inclined to thank him.

Chakotay too, barely registered the trick of photons hovering impatiently by his biobed, his gaze and attention completely locked in a bitter stalemate with Seven of Nine. "I just…" He started up again, his frustration revving as he distractedly flexed his leg, "…expect better from _you _in a situation like that." he pressed once more, shifting his gaze irritably onto an amused Tom Paris when Seven remained as maddeningly still and impassive as ever, watching him like a mother waiting for her toddler's tantrum to blow over. "I would expect _him_ to be stupidly reckless, but never you…"

"Huh…" Tom interrupted with a smirk between Chakotay and the real subject of his ire, amused by how complete Chakotay's loss of composure was, "Is that the way you should be talking about the man who now _owns _your life?"

Chakotay ignored the taunt completely, still stubbornly fixated on Seven. "Just…tell me why you did it." He half demanded, half pleaded, while frowning at her disapprovingly.

For the first time, he momentarily punctured Seven's mask, hurt burning briefly over her face before she smothered it. It had been simple to dismiss his angry, pain filled rants at her as they'd dragged themselves out of the collapsing tunnel and been beamed abroad, she knew they were merely an outpouring of fear, a vent for the heated adrenaline of his brush with death, but it stung to think that those emotions had blinded him to memories of her previous loyalty. "You should know _why_." She answered in a quiet, low tone, finally moving to cross her arms over her chest defensively, as if guarding herself from him.

Chakotay heard the subtle note of accusation in her tone and it pierced the self-righteous bubble his fear had formed around him. Inhaling sharply, he regarded her more gently, now seeing her stubborn silence in a different light. "I do know…" He mumbled apologetically, sighing to himself, "But you shouldn't risk yourself like that again, even for me. I…our crew need you."

"I think you can both talk about your needs and risk-aversion issues at another time, with a qualified counsellor." The Doctor intervened drily as he laid his tricorder aside, "For now, _my _job is done. Your leg is in full working order."

Chakotay gladly took the hint and began to swing his legs off the biobed, "Thanks." He replied shortly, stopping just as his legs hit the floor when the whole ship gave a violent shudder.

Captain Janeway, leaving her own biobed despite the hologram's protests about concussion, was on it immediately. "Janeway to Bridge, what's going on up there?"

"Three Kazon ships have come into visual range Captain and are firing on us and the Valjean." Ensign Rollins reported from his post holding down the Bridge, "They appear to be intent on boarding the Caretaker's array."

"They have realised the opportunity in this situation." Seven remarked tersely, her knuckles curling around the edge of the biobed behind her, "We must not allow them to board if we wish to use the array ourselves."

"I know." The Captain replied tightly before turning her attention back down to her comm. badge, "Evasive manoeuvres Ensign, but engage fire. We have to do whatever we can to keep those Kazon off that array." She stiffened questioningly as she saw Chakotay, Seven and B'Elanna move towards Sickbay's doors as a single, determined group. "Where are you going?"

"Back to our ship." B'Elanna replied briskly, automatically tugging at her clothes to cover the scars of the Caretaker's 'illness', even though the EMH had treated her, as she moved to escape, already thinking ahead to the damage her ship had undoubtedly sustained while she was gone.

Picking up on Janeway's incredulity, and feeling of abandonment, Chakotay was quick to reassure her, "Two ships are better than one Captain, and we need to be on ours if we're to help secure the array."

"Understood." Janeway swiftly agreed as another explosion of phaser fire radiating through the ship's shields made her vessel quiver; they were going to need all of the firepower they could get. She turned with a genuine smile to B'Elanna then, "It's good to have you back safe." She told her sincerely, although her smile widened with relief when she repeated the same sentiment to Harry Kim as B'Elanna nodded stiffly, somewhat disconcerted.

Chakotay put an arm loosely around his engineer's shoulders just as she caught Tom's searching gaze. "Come on." He told her softly, including Seven in the order with a glance that led the three of them to the nearest console, where Seven promptly beamed them away before Janeway or the Doctor could protest, the latter about such improper conduct in Sickbay and the former about the sheer presumptuous of it while they were under attack.

* * *

><p>"What did that alien do to my ship?" B'Elanna spat out as she sprinted back and forth between the Valjean's tiny Engineering section and its Bridge. "It's in even worse condition than Gul Evek left me to work with!"<p>

"The journey from the Alpha Quadrant was far from smooth." Seven reminded her sharply, clutching her own console with every ounce of her enhanced strength so that her body could roll with the blows the ship was receiving rather than fall to the floor.

"I think it's the Kazon doing the damage at the moment!" Chakotay broke in, having taken control of piloting the ship himself to conduct evasive manoeuvres that would've, in any other circumstances, been madness to attempt. Now, it was the sane thing to do to keep them all alive. "B'Elanna, I need every bit of power to stay flying!"

"I'm giving you…" B'Elanna's head narrowly missed being slammed against the console as a particularly well-aimed flurry of Kazon phaser fire hit home on the Valjean's belly just as Chakotay had soared upwards in an attempt to guard Voyager's vulnerable deflector, "…all that I can. That was a direct hit; it's either weapons or life-support."

"Shields down to 16%!" Ayala cried out, smoke from the console nearest his own billowing out to frame the growing hopeless strain on his face.

Seven had to follow that up almost instantly with, "Phasers have failed, all torpedoes have been expended."

Chakotay gritted his teeth as he watched the Kazon ships lose interest in them and swarm with single-minded menace around Voyager, tussling it out to surround and claim the Caretaker's array. "Life support?" he shouted out desperately, not really caring who answered as a plan came together in his mind.

"It'll hold out for five more minutes at most." B'Elanna answered, her eyes boring into his back, "Chakotay…"

Chakotay cut her question off, his answer already lying in wait as a tight lump in his throat. "Everyone is to evacuate to Voyager immediately." He commanded, still staring at the battle being played out on the viewscreen. Relief made dialling in his instructions into the console easily as he heard, even through the din, everyone begin to obediently retreat.

Seven was, of course, slower to give in than the others and noticed that Chakotay hadn't moved, instead tucking himself tighter against the console. "You are not coming?" She asked, not wanting to believe the suspicion that was dawning on her. Her voice became shamefully high-pitched when he remained silent, "Chakotay!"

"This ship may be on its last legs but it can still do some damage to one of those ships in a direct hit." Chakotay told her huskily, "Someone needs to stay until the last second to make sure it's a bull's-eye."

"You're going to _ram _one of those ships?" B'Elanna exclaimed, scrambling over to the other piloting console, "No, maybe I can…"

"If there was anything else we could do you would've suggested it already!" Chakotay snapped at her, "The only way we'll all get out of this is if you all leave now and Voyager only needs to concentrate on beaming me out when the time comes."

"You are being irrational…" Seven choked out, "The only way to have us all get off this ship for certain is for _everyone _to leave now, including you! Voyager can fight…"

"They won't win at 3 to 1 odds and you know it." Chakotay countered, turning in his chair to face her, "This way I can at least knock one ship out of commission…"

"Perhaps we should just abandon the array to its fate!" Seven snarled back in frustration, earning shocked and angry glares from both B'Elanna and Chakotay. She regretted voicing the thought immediately, although the voice of the Collective in her head told her that fighting to return to the Alpha Quadrant was growing increasingly futile. "I did not mean that I…"

B'Elanna swallowed hard and moved back to join the others, submitting to Chakotay's argument over Seven's ghastly alternative. Chakotay gave her a nod before settling knowing eyes on Seven, "We talked about this, go." He sighed heavily, trying to smile at her as she just stared at him, stricken. "One of those crackerjack Starfleet transporter chiefs might be able to keep a lock on me, but I _know _that you will, okay?"

Seven's whole frame straightened, her lips making a jerky twitch, as if she couldn't decide whether to return his shaky smile or cry, before her entire face went disturbingly blank. "Okay." With that, Chakotay heard the buzz of someone activating a mass transport and settled into his empty Bridge with a surprisingly clear, light mind.

Thankfully, there was just enough power left in the thrusters to be able to plunge forward. He would've liked to be able to aim for the ship furthest from the array, but the Kazon were forming a combative, defensive stance around it despite Voyager's best efforts to keep them away from the precious installation. It was almost like aiming one of those ancient pinball machines he'd seen in a children's museum once, fire for a target and try to predict what it would bounce off. When he was sure that the collision he'd lined up for wouldn't affect Voyager, he forced every last fraction of speed and power from his dying ship, opening a comm. line as he zoomed towards the exposed side of the lumbering Kazon vessel he'd selected. "Did my crew get over there?" he shouted down the line as the whine of the straining engines began to drown out all else around him.

"They're all ready and waiting for you." Tom Paris, of all people, replied.

"Good." Chakotay muttered as the bronze coloured hull of his target enveloped his viewscreen, "Get Seven to beam me over on _my _mark, no earlier." He had to force himself to say those words as his body clenched in fearful anticipation, not helped as the Bridge began to lose gravity, strengthening his vision of impending death. "1, 2, 3…" The numbers died in his throat as his eyes made out the rivets holding his enemy's sanctuary together. "_NOW_!" He yelled, the blissful hum of the transporter filling his ears before his own desperate cry really hit them.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D This is a lot shorter than the past couple of chapters I know, but it fits in with how I'm planning the next few longer chapters. **


	54. Shades of Grey

**A/n: I'm _so _sorry, once again, that I haven't updated anything in over a week! I've been under the weather and my stubbornness kicked in when I wasn't satisfied with this chapter, I couldn't write anything else until it was finished and I was relatively happy with it, sigh. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy. :)**

B'Elanna cringed on the transporter pad as the sounds of her confused crewmates hit her ears. They were milling around, lowing, like a lost herd of cattle, all except Seven, who stood paralysed on the edge of the group, her stricken, unmoving face reminding B'Elanna of a memorial statute over a grave. Slowly, impatiently urging the others out of the way, she approached Seven, her tongue numb with her own dread as she spoke, "You couldn't convince him to leave?"

Seven didn't move a muscle; B'Elanna couldn't even see her bloodless lips parting to free the word she obviously didn't want to say, "No."

B'Elanna, feeling the heat of anger run through her for no other reason than it warmed her chilled nerves, scanned the room for familiar faces, turning on the stiff lieutenant manning the transport station when her head count fell short. "This isn't our full crew complement, where is everyone else?"

The man blanched at the growled threat in her tone, "We can't beam up a crew of almost thirty using one transporter, the others who requested a beam up are in Transporter Room 1."

B'Elanna didn't give the man the concession of showing her relief, "What about the one person who _didn't _ask to be beamed up? Have you still got a lock on him?"

"Chakotay? Yes, but with the interference being created by exchanging fire with the Kazon…"

His pessimism was interrupted by Captain Janeway's voice crackling through the comm. system, "Lieutenant Chapman, why are we still reading Chakotay as on board the Valjean? We can't afford to keep the shields down for much longer…"

Seven revived instantly, somehow managing to reach the console and intercept Chapman's reply before the man had even opened his mouth, "Captain, Chakotay is conducting a manoeuvre to neutralise one of the Kazon vessels, we must be prepared to beam him aboard at the last possible moment."

Something of Seven's desperate conviction must've transmitted itself to Janeway even through the straining comm. line, because she didn't take the time to question what this 'manoeuvre' could possibly be. "Understood, we'll keep shields down for as long as we can."

Seven's head lowered in a moment of unconscious gratitude even though Janeway couldn't see it. "Thank you." She murmured quietly before turning suddenly cool, uncompromising eyes on Chapman. "I require command of your station Lieutenant."

In Chapman's mind, which a moment before had seen her as a ruthlessly determined drone pounding towards him, Seven now resembled the deadly beauty of the vengeful valkyries he'd read of in childhood, and since he was nervous of dominant _human _women, he obediently fell back from his station. "Yes, of course…ma'am…" He forced out.

Under any other circumstances Seven may have quirked an amused eyebrow his way; as a civilian, and a twenty two year old one at that, she'd never have thought of 'ma'am' being applied to her, but as it was her mind was too full. It only took one glance at the console to see that Voyager was in just as bad a situation as the Captain had indicated, and Chapman hadn't been exaggerating when he'd said that the battle was making keeping a lock difficult. In fact, at any moment, if a Kazon phaser volley were to hit the wrong point, the transporters would be dead. B'Elanna obviously got the gist of the situation when she saw Seven's gaze narrow in concentration over the console, her whole frame crouching over it as if being as close as possible would help in drawing out a solution. "Come on!" B'Elanna yelled to their fearful crew, all of the smaller group from Transporter Room 1 having made their way in the room in search of Chakotay's leadership. "We're fighting a battle here, let's go and see what we can do!"

In her peripheral vision, Seven saw them dispersing, and caught B'Elanna's significant glance, but all of the extra focus the Borg had given her in the pursuit of perfection she now drove into the details flicking like sparks from a fire over the console, if she blinked she would miss them. "Seven…" Tom's smooth voice, sharp with concern, broke in over the comm., "I'm patching Chakotay's comm. link down there to you. He wants you to do this."

"I am." Seven replied tersely, irrationally irritated by the idea that Chakotay had felt the need to reiterate the order even as the solution clicked into place in her brain and she rapidly dialled in the formula which would compensate for the interference and provide a strong lock on his signal. As the transporter found him, then wavered as the Valjean barrelled towards the massive, disruptive bulk of the main Kazon vessel, Seven felt her whole body wobble, the console blurring like a fading mirage in front of her as she was overwhelmed with faintness.

"3…" The sound of Chakotay's voice, still distinctive even as the roar of the Valjean hull being peeled off surrounded him, made Seven inhale sharply as if he'd kicked her in the chest, bringing much needed air into her oxygen starved lungs and pulling her back from the brink of unconsciousness. "2…" Her mind bounced back to a total, absorbed attention on the task at hand, his voice, paradoxically, helping her to shut all emotion out of the equations she was doing in her head as she roughly guided the transporter into obedience. "3…" Chakotay's previous calm was pierced with realisation and terror, "_NOW_!"

Thankfully, Seven had a better understanding of the distance the Valjean had travelled than he did at that moment and had already activated the transporter as he'd choked out '3'. Therefore, he arrived on the transporter pad, cringing, pale, but unharmed. A ragged breath, the breath of a man anticipating death, left his tight lungs before he registered where he was and air came to him instead as greedy, gasping gulps. Relief, and a measure of exhilaration, brought the colour back to his face as he straightened up. Lieutenant Chapman, still watching the scene, caught Seven's expression in that moment of proof of life, a disbelieving smile of heart-stopping relief that opened up her scarred face to all its beauty. However, as soon as Chakotay turned to look at her, blinking rapidly but with a disarmingly honest grin of absolute gratitude, her face closed up entirely, as if strapped on a steel mask the moment he caught he caught her eye. Chakotay's expression faltered slightly as he stumbled off the pad towards her, and Chapman shrank back as if expecting thunder and lightning, but as Chakotay grew closer he saw that beyond her disturbingly blank, hard expression, Seven was shaking like a leaf, clinging to the console for support even as she tried to stand as unflinching as a storm breaker in the wind. "Seven…" He started shamefacedly, putting a tentative hand on her Borg one, his clasp tightening into an affectionate, grateful squeeze when she didn't flinch back in the anger he half expected.

"Transporter Room 2, do you have him?" The Captain asked sharply down the comm. line.

Seven cleared her throat, but even then her reply still sounded rusty, "Yes Captain. Chakotay is on board."

Janeway exhaled deeply in relief before they heard her issue an order to raise shields to someone in the background, then address them again, "That's a relief to hear, considering how his little 'manoeuvre' turned out." She said with a dry chuckle, her attention obviously partially diverted elsewhere as she added, "I suggest the two of you report back to the Bridge."

"We're on our way Captain." Chakotay assured her, but didn't yet move from where he stood next to Seven as he murmured in a low, almost sheepish tone, "Forgive me then?" He sighed when her face tightened at the question, his fingers constantly stroking her still quivering hand, rubbing heat into the fear chilled skin between the roots of metal. "I know I'm a hypocrite…"

Seven's façade finally started to crumble, her voice cracking as she cut him off pointedly, "Yes." She nodded her head hard, "You are." This little exchange, as odd as it sounded to Chapman's eavesdropping ears, seemed like a revelation of forgiveness for them as Seven subtly let their fingers lace for a moment and Chakotay visibly relaxed. He brought her hand to his lips for the briefest instant, like a superstitious man kissing a good luck charm, before they dropped all physical contact as completely as the issue between them. "We should return to the Bridge." Seven declared and with Chakotay's nod they disappeared as a pair into the turbolift, leaving Chapman to return, deeply confused, to his usurped station.

* * *

><p>"My God…" Chakotay breathed, his face tinged grey as he and Seven stepped out of the turbolift together, faced with the reality of the viewscreen. There was now a huge, inflamed wound in the side of the array, the flaming debris raining down from the gash damaging the structure further. "Did the ship I struck hit the array? I tried to avoid that…"<p>

Janeway, seeing his stricken expression even as her own heart clenched at the sight, regarded him with understanding. "I know you did, and you did the right thing, that cruiser would've have destroyed both ships if you hadn't risked what you did."

Chakotay was surprised by her resolute stance, but didn't have time to give her more than an acknowledging nod in reply before Harry Kim, now back at his post, interrupted, "Chakotay's move definitely worked Captain, the two smaller Kazon vessels are backing off of us, but they're forming a defensive position around the array."

"Hail them." Janeway ordered crisply, trying to force her instinctive glare into a more diplomatic expression as Harry did as she asked and Jaibin's repulsive, irate features filled the viewscreen. "Mr Jaibin, I believe we've fought over this array for long enough…" She paused to give him a pointed look, "Especially since you've just lost of your ships and its crew." She took a deep breath, "I'm sure we can reach an acceptable agreement on how to deal with this regrettable situation…"

"If you think we are going to allow a people with technology such as yours to control this array you are mistaken woman!" Jaibin barked, "It is Kazon territory and we intend to defend and claim it!"

Janeway's voice caught in her frustrated as she strode forward towards the viewscreen, "Jaibin, can't we discuss this like two _civilised_…"

"I guess we can't." She quipped darkly as the viewscreen flicked ominously back to the battleground outside, the two remaining Kazon ships flanking the array menacingly. Staring at the visibly disintegrating array in silence for a moment, Janeway came to her decision. "Is it feasible to beam an away team onto the array?"

"For the time being, yes." Seven replied, having briefly imposed herself on Harry Kim's station once again. "Life support and power is still functioning within the central nexus of the array." She glanced towards the helm, "I believe Mr Paris' piloting skills will be sufficient to keep us a safe distance away to lower shields for the transport."

Tom's face brightened at the vote of confidence, and Janeway found herself nodding in agreement with it. "Yes, Mr Paris, stay the helm." She looked automatically at Tuvok, "Lieutenant, with me." She paused again to meet Seven's impossibly cool gaze, "I believe your skill-set will be useful over there Seven of Nine."

"Yes." Seven agreed, holding her gaze, "I will do whatever is within my capacity to assist." With that, she stepped away from a rather comically stunned Harry Kim and joined Tuvok in walking towards the turbolift.

Janeway couldn't help but glance back at Chakotay as she moved to follow them, anticipating an outburst against Seven going, or an insistence that he join them in that case, but the only sign that the idea disturbed him at all was a deep intake of breath as he pushed his shoulders back and stared at the viewscreen. "I'll hold things as steady as I can here." He told her.

"I'd expect nothing less." Janeway admitted as she entered the turbolift, surprised by how genuine her sentiment was. Respect was an odd thing; it developed at odd times, with people who should've never deserved it…

* * *

><p>The sense of futility in this mission settled in Seven's stomach like a lead weight as soon as the transporter successfully beamed them to the array. Before her vision had even cleared her other senses were struck poignantly by the signs of technological mortality. The caustic, breath-stealing smell of leaking plasma fluid, mixed with the chemical smoke of fried circuits, told her all she needed to know. Through the Collective mind, she'd been on enough dying space installations, as the Borg preyed on the carcases after the kill like vultures, to realise when something was likely beyond saving. Nothing, as her vision cleared, lightened the impression, as much as she tried to fight the resignation. They were standing as part of a holographic simulation, similar to what she'd seen before although now, rather than a pleasant, sun dappled farm they stood in a decrepit, cavernous barn. Even that illusion was now dented however, every so often there was a patch where the emitters had failed entirely, revealing smoke scarred silver walls or plaintively beeping consoles.<p>

The Caretaker sat on a more rickety chair than before, the banjo still clutched in arthritic hands even as he stared at them in admonishing disappointment, his small eyes rheumy. "You should not have come back. You need to leave now if you want to keep your ship intact."

Janeway stepped cautiously forward, though her stance in addressing him was determined, her gaze earnest. "Oh, we intend to leave, but we need your array, we need _you_, to help us get home."

The Caretaker breathed a wheezy sigh. "Impossible." He told her firmly, if not unkindly. "I barely…have enough strength to seal the Ocampa's power conduits…" He blinked up at the Captain, "My efforts for another solution, a reprieve, failed. There is no way to send your ship back to the Alpha Quadrant…I have set this installation's self-destruct mechanism…"

"Self-destruct?" Captain Janeway echoed in a broken whisper before spinning around to face Tuvok and Seven, "See if you can find any way to activate whatever system brought us here and reverse it!" She ordered desperately before striding forward to kneel beside the Caretaker, "You _can't _just destroy this place, not yet…"

"It's too late!" The Caretaker cried out, "I have failed in almost every way, the debt has not been repaid, but I _must _protect the Ocampa from the Kazon!"

Seven felt this argument was pointless, if the alien had activated the self-destruct mechanism then there just wasn't time for interrogations as to the reason for it. Thankfully, Tuvok seemed to agree with this unspoken sentiment and they both managed to mostly tune out the conversation in favour of crouching by the nearest console revealed by the broken emitters and analyse it. One sweep of Tuvok's tricorder brought him to some sobering conclusions. "We must work on deactivating the self destruct; this data seems to show that we only have a ten minute timeframe at best." He inclined his head, still listening to his Captain even as he addressed Seven, "Do you know how to proceed?"

Seven pressed her lips together as she scanned the innards of the console intently with both her own tricorder and her optical implant. Neither system made much headway in interpreting the readings they received. With one conscious thought, her assimilation tubes slid cleanly out of her hand. Tuvok paused for a split second before nodding agreement, but Seven had to take a deep breath before reaching in to plunge the tubes into the rebelling circuitry. There was no telling what interfacing with these exceptionally advanced systems would do to her implants…

Information flooded and overwhelmed her mind, bringing a toxic high and deadening low like a narcotic, before Seven regained enough control to snatch away the most vital fragments that would stay in her conscious mind and yanked her arm back just as a brutal surge of feedback sped up the tubes and sent a painful burning, numbing sensation up the length of her arm and even into the implants embedded in her back, ribs and chest. She couldn't stop a gasping groan leaving her throat but shook off Tuvok's concerned grip as she retracted the tubes back into her hand with a wince. "Don't tell Chakotay I risked that." She muttered to him weakly as her gaze refocused. "I could perhaps disable the self-destruct mechanism…given time. It's already badly damaged." She glanced over at Janeway, her multi-tasking brain able to take in, as Tuvok's was, the conversation with the Caretaker in the background as well as the data in front of her. Captain Janeway was trying to reason with the dying being's last lament, but he was utterly focused on the Ocampa and it seemed she was humouring him somewhat, trying to make him see the Ocampa as an independent people. Seven herself didn't see how all this background as to their tragic marooning would help the here and now, but if it made Janeway see the truth of it… Seven certainly didn't want to be the one to tell B'Elanna that she'd been lined up to become the alien's 'offspring' and hoped that detail never became relevant to anything. Dismissing such considerations wholly from her brain, she quietly told Tuvok, "However, even if I did deactivate it, and I would need longer than ten minutes and the array may not be able to send us back, just as the Caretaker claims. It is badly damaged and even I have little idea where to start the repairs in order to return us to the Alpha Quadrant. If we could learn from the Caretaker where that piece of technology lies, it would still take many hours to even make an attempt at using it, and we do not have those hours. These sensors show that a much larger Kazon fleet is rapidly approaching…"

Janeway's tightly controlled voice soared over their bowed heads. "Is there any way for us to make use of this array Mr Tuvok?"

"It would require several factors aligning perfectly in our favour Captain." Tuvok reported Seven's assessment with stoic succinctness, "If we could successfully deactivate the self-destruct mechanism, and keep the Kazon at bay, we would still require several hours, perhaps days, to be able to gain the ability to send Voyager back to the Alpha Quadrant."

The Captain's face was carefully blank as she took this in. "We need to learn as much about the technology that brought us here as we can, go back and try to…" She was cut of by an explosion that threw the three humanoids to the floor, their ears ringing, and which finally caused the illusion of the barn to dissipate. When they regained their bearings, they were standing among the technology this array truly contained, the banjo player gone, replaced by a huge…gelatinous being without solid form. "This is your true self…" The Captain murmured as she saw the real Caretaker.

"The…The self-destruct mechanism has been…knocked off-line…" His still understandable but now desperate, failing voice cried, "But this installation must be destroyed…it _must _be. If the Kazon gain control of it, the Ocampa will be…annihilated..." His blindingly bright body began to blacken and sink towards the floor, "Destroy it…_please_!" Suddenly the mass where the Caretaker had been was gone, and in its place was a small, fossilised crystal like substance, as multi-coloured as he had been. Janeway bent to gingerly pick it up.

"He's right…" She murmured resignedly, her conflict and anguish evident in her pale, pinched face as she stood upright before Tuvok and Seven's eerily stoic features. "The Kazon can't be allowed to have this installation. Not only the Ocampa be in danger, but so would the entire Delta Quadrant."

"Captain…" Tuvok intervened gently, "I remind you that the Prime Directive is still applicable here. It prohibits us from interfering in the internal affairs of civilisations beyond the Federation, including the Kazon and the Ocampa. Any actions we take could adversely affect the balance of power in this Quadrant. We cannot become involved."

"Tuvok…" Janeway began slowly, "You know I believe in the Prime Directive, and that I would never completely disregard it, but this situation has to be one of the rare ones where it stands void. We _are_ involved, we never wanted to be, but we've been embroiled in this since the Caretaker dragged us here!" She paused for air, her hand clenching around the Caretaker's array, "I want to get us all more than anything, but I can't in good conscience ride the corpses of the Ocampa to do that…"

"This debate is ultimately irrelevant." Seven cut in tersely, staring them both down. "If we leave the array intact, in order to attempt to repair it and return to the Alpha Quadrant, it is highly likely that Voyager would be destroyed in its defence and we would not have a ship to travel home_ in_. Whether you decide to help the Ocampa by hindering the Kazon is irrelevant to our fate, we are trapped in the Delta Quadrant."

Janeway flinched at how bluntly her hopes and ideals were being battered to death by this drone. "Are you really saying there's no chance that we can use this array?" she asked in a whisper.

Seven's stiff, resigned face wavered. "There is a 10% to 15% chance that with the knowledge at our disposal we could make it fully functional." She admitted softly, "But those odds won't do any good if the Kazon fleet that is now upon us kills us all, and they will if we stay here Captain." She concluded with muted sadness.

Janeway and Tuvok both regarded her in silence for a moment before the Captain broke it with a click of her heels, turning physically and metaphorically away from the array. "Well, that makes the decision for me, but it doesn't make it any easier to accept." Seven and Tuvok gave a subdued nod as one, and Janeway took that as the cue to move on, tapping her comm. badge, "Voyager, three to beam back."

* * *

><p>"What happened, Captain?" Harry Kim asked with fearful eagerness as Janeway, Tuvok and Seven of Nine returned to the Bridge.<p>

"Are we going to finally fire up that array and get out of here?" Tom questioned bluntly, twisting away from the helm to face the away team, only to grimace when he saw the answer in their drawn faces.

Janeway answered neither question, instead staring straight ahead at the accursed array and the Kazon fleet growing in strength around it. "Mr Tuvok, ready torpedoes." She ordered softly.

"Captain…" Chakotay began uneasily, stopping before the question had even fully formed in his mind as Seven crept close to his side, giving her head a tiny shake as he met her gaze.

Janeway however, caught his drift, heard the unspoken confused and accusatory questions that hung in the air like thick smoke. "I've just returned from the array…" She began in her best Captain's voice, "…and what I saw there convinced me that it must be…destroyed. A journey from here back to the Alpha Quadrant would take almost 75 years at maximum warp, but I intend to lead you home long before that. The Caretaker has a companion with the ability to send us home and we're going to find her, as well as make us of every wormhole and every technology we find along the way to shorten our trip." She held her hand up for silence as the room began to ripple with discontent as the true meaning of her words sunk in. "Yes, it would be easier if we could travel the way we came here, but I don't believe that the eradication of the Ocampa is a price any of us would be willing to pay for the sake of convenience."

"You're…You're going to destroy the array?" B'Elanna ground out in disbelief.

Janeway met her burning gaze sadly. "Yes, I am."

"It is of no use to us anyway." Seven reported remorsefully, "The system that brought us here is far beyond our capabilities to repair, the Kazon would succeed in killing us before we even started to attempt it."

"You're saying that the prospect of being trapped here isn't worse than the risk of fighting them?" B'Elanna spat out incredulously, though most of her devastated ire was directed squarely at Captain Janeway, "Who is _she _to be making that decision for all of us?"

Chakotay gripped her shoulder hard to restrain her, "Because she's the Captain." He told her bluntly, though his voice was hoarse with emotion as he said it.

B'Elanna seemed to shrink as Chakotay's reprimand knocked her into a stupor. It couldn't really be this bad, could it?

She got her answer as, in response to Tuvok's report, Janeway forced two words through her denial frozen lips. "Open fire."

It took surprisingly few volleys before the array, and any tangible hopes of home to cling to, were blown up in their faces.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D Also, Anniexus has written another C/7 story since I last updated, a short one-shot, a missing scene from 'The Raven'. I wish I'd thought of it for 'A Raven's Ghost' lol. The fic is called 'There But For Chance' and is wonderfully written. Enjoy! :)**


	55. Tomorrow May Be Kinder

**A/n: Hi! A loyal reader of this story, seraphim2db, has started to post a new story called 'Annika and the Emissary'. It's apparently inspired by this story! Seven is again freed much earlier, and as the story is beta read by me I can confirm that it will develop into C/7! :) It crosses over with the other Trek shows, although is on the Voyager database, but you don't need to have seen the other shows because it's so AU. I hope you all read and enjoy it. :)**

The seconds after the array's final destruction stretched out as hours in the stunned minds of the marooned Alpha Quadrant natives who were still clinging on inside the U.S.S Voyager. They could only watch as their final, decisive torpedo volley sent a spectacular cumulative explosion which brought reality to their minds as if they were hearing a dying man's last gasp. In the end, the obliteration was so complete that the debris seemed to disappear into the unknown stars; it was almost as if that the array, their saving grace just moments before, had never existed in the first place.

Those on the Bridge were knocked back into the surreal nightmare that was their current reality as Jaibin's scowling face took over the viewscreen. "You have made an enemy today." He declared with lethal conviction that made a shiver run up Janeway's spine. For the first time since she'd come face to face with the man on Ocampa's surface, she felt afraid of him. Where previously his face had reflected complacent contempt and angry arrogance, his face, with the expression rooted in his vicious eyes, was now a mask of insatiable, vengeful hatred. She had no doubt that he meant what he said as the comm. link was killed off on his side without another word.

"Do you think they'll attack us immediately?" she asked through gritted teeth. The question was directed at no one in particular, but she found her gaze unwillingly settling on Seven of Nine.

The drone seemed to take this reluctant, conceding glance as sufficient permission to answer. "At the moment I believe that whichever alliances Jaibin called on to occupy the array and attack us will be eroding, but soon enough his fleet will regain cohesion. We should leave."

"Miss…Seven is right Captain." Neelix piped up, his golden eyes flicking sympathetically over each shell-shocked face in the room as he spoke, "Jaibin will be getting a violent dressing down from each of his ship's commanders right now, but they'll soon put that aside to turn on Voyager again."

Janeway nodded sharply, striding forward to stand just behind Tom Paris, through her gaze was still on the drastic scene outside as she addressed him, "Get us out of here Mr Paris, warp eight!"

Tom kicked the warp engine forward at once even as he swallowed hard and looked at her over his shoulder, "In which direction Captain?"

Janeway only took a split second to decide, her jaw locking determinedly. "Towards home." She ordered softly, though the words were heavily weighted with intent.

Tom nodded, for a moment in that rare position where words failed him as he dialled in navigational demands and saw just how impossibly distant home was. "Yes ma'am." He eventually agreed, deciding to look forward to study the viewscreen rather than be trapped among the stricken faces behind him.

It could've been hours, or minutes, of silence that ruled over the Bridge as they proceeded to leave the Kazon far back in the wake of the warp engines. Any one of them could have heard a pin drop, only the occasional bleep of a console, striking the congregation like a funereal hymn, broke through the sudden monotony as they plunged deeper into foreign space in order to escape it. As she stared at the vacuum of space surrounding them, as empty as her heart now felt, Janeway felt the numbness of shock start to painfully recede, and she found herself stumbling back into the anchor of normality that was her Captain's chair. She immediately felt her head begin to lower to bury itself in her upraised hands, but suppressed the urge as she felt, with hair prickling certainty, the eyes of the others on her. She'd forsaken her own right to fall apart when she'd ordered the destruction of the array; they were depending on her for leadership, guidance on what to do with what her actions had left them all with. "What time is it?" she asked, it was the first thing that had come to her head to say.

"2247 hours Captain." Tuvok replied promptly, as if her question were the most obvious one in the world given their circumstances.

Janeway shivered, a wave of exhaustion, one she doubted even coffee could lift, abruptly consuming her to fill the hole left by her ebbing adrenaline. She could see that the physical toll was hitting everyone else just as hard; even Tuvok and the Borg girl's stoic stances were cracking under the strain. "We all need to sleep…" She muttered vaguely, "God knows when we last had any…" She shook her head to try to rid herself of the confusion and bitterness, but the feelings festered like a septic wound even as she tried to hide them behind new clarity as she unintentionally met Chakotay's watchful gaze. His face was as carefully inscrutable as she hoped her own was, but she could see her own torn, brutalised emotions mirrored in his deep, dark eyes. Grief. Resignation. Bitterness. Fear…

"Mr Chakotay?" she murmured quietly, clutching the edges of her chair as she turned her face upwards towards the rebel she'd been hunting, the young man who'd helped her keep both of their crews alive.

"Captain?" Chakotay echoed in the same tone. He hadn't intended for the word to come out as a question, since it sounded weak, insecure, but his voice betrayed him.

Janeway felt some of her conviction seep back into her and she rose to stand toe to toe with him before speaking. "I have a proposition for you." She began crisply, "Your crew should stay here."

Honestly, Chakotay's relief totally overwhelmed his spark of surprise. He'd known, rationally, that Voyager was, ironically, his crew's only hope now that the Valjean was gone, but he'd been fighting rationale ever since the array had been destroyed, hell he'd been pushing the dark horror of long-term reality aside in favour of short-term action since the Caretaker had lassoed his ship. Still, part of him, and this was the part that won out at first, was suspicious and sceptical. "As members of your crew?" he asked, unable to completely suppress the disbelief that sharpened the question.

Janeway's eyes widened in realisation and Chakotay knew instantly that her offer to share the one vessel they'd been left with had been an utterly impulsive one. He'd need to remember that; this woman, despite her polished veneer, wasn't inclined to consider the consequences before she acted, throwing caution to the wind. Of course, that part of her character had been obvious the moment she'd destroyed the array. He found the quality admirable, in a dangerous way. To her credit, Janeway recovered almost immediately. "Yes, as part of my crew." She answered, firmly and sincerely, even as she pressed a hand to her temple, as if trying to force the idea through her skull to be absorbed. "It would take some time to agree on the…intricacies of the arrangement, but I think you and your people have earned that consideration." She took a deep breath as she regarded him with a tight-lipped earnestness, "If you hadn't sacrificed your ship, it's pretty unlikely that any of us would've made it out of there alive, I'm not going to forget that." She sighed when he didn't immediately reply to her reassurance, "I've lost a lot of good people, and Voyager will need as many of those as she can get. We managed to work together before; I can't see why we can't continue to, for the sake of both our crews."

For 75 years? Chakotay added silently, even as the truth of her words sunk in. If anything, this was a more desperate situation than when they'd first become allies in the pursuit of B'Elanna and Kim. "For the sake of both our crews…" He drew out slowly, well aware of the life-changing responsibility this answer held, "…I think we'll _have_ to work together."

"To find a way home." Janeway finished, his quiet, pragmatic tone not sitting well with her habit of empowering her decisions with hopeful, dramatic embellishment.

Chakotay saw Seven's face twitch, and could practically hear her likely reply in his head, 'In the best case scenario', as he numbly considered his own, "That's what we all want." He allowed himself to run a stressed hand through his hair as he turned to face the only two of his crewmembers present, Seven and B'Elanna, and the enormity of this decision truly began to hit him. "Listen, go and gather the crew somewhere, I need to talk to them all about this."

"The Mess Hall should be as good a place as any." Tom suggested, standing up from the comm., "I could lead them there Captain…" He added, giving his new crewmates a compassionate glance. B'Elanna in particular resembled at that moment, in look and manner, a zombie from his 20th Century movie collection.

"Uh…yes, go ahead." Janeway permitted distractedly, "Ensign Rollins will take the comm."

As Tom Paris exchanged places with his crewmate and started towards them, Seven opened her mouth to inform him that she knew the route to the Mess Hall perfectly well, she'd memorised the ship's layout during her first, clandestine, visit, but as she saw him interact with B'Elanna the words died on her lips. "Come on." He murmured, perhaps to both of them, but it was B'Elanna's elbow he took gently in hand. She flinched at his touch, her head jerking away resentfully, but Tom didn't loosen his grip, instead giving her a light tug towards the turbolift. Seven began to dutifully follow on B'Elanna's other side, half afraid that the half Klingon's legs would buckle and that she and Tom would have to carry her. Even as she did that however, she couldn't help seeking out Chakotay's gaze apprehensively.

"I'll be right behind you." Chakotay assured her quietly, relieved when she didn't press the issue and cleanly turned to head for the turbolift. If she'd thought to hold his gaze, he knew he wouldn't have convinced her. The thought of facing the rest of his crew, throwing the hard, unpalatable facts in their faces after so long spent building up their trust and loyalty, made him sick to his stomach.

"Wait, Chakotay." Janeway's husky voice, betraying real tentativeness for the first time, interrupted his thoughts, but as soon as she had his attention she addressed Tuvok, "Lieutenant, get me a list of available crew quarters please." There was a brief pause as Tuvok downloaded the data to a PADD and handed it to her and reading it as Chakotay became confusion only strengthened her sudden resolution, even as a lump rose in her throat as she looked at the list, most of these rooms had belonged to crewmembers she'd already lost in this new journey… No, she couldn't afford to think like that, not now, not if she wanted this to work. Slowly, she pressed the PADD into Chakotay's hands, holding it out so that their skin didn't actually touch. "Allocate these rooms to your people at your discretion." She told him firmly, sighing a little as she turned away so not to read his expression. "We all need a place to bed down, shake this day off. It's best if we all try to settle down and accept this situation as soon as possible."

"I agree." Chakotay murmured as he studied the list in wonder, it was an unexpected, if necessary and practical, olive branch. There were enough sets of quarters here to give each of his people their own space, privacy impossible on the Valjean. Not that that perk would be enough to gain his people's acceptance, but it was a step forward he knew it had to have been a hard one for Janeway to take. "Thank you Captain." Janeway's eyes shot to his face as she heard his sincerity, untainted by the tensions present in both of them. In the end they were both leaders, protectors, of their people and if there was one thing each understood about the other it was that quality.

"You're welcome." Janeway replied shakily as he entered the turbolift.

* * *

><p>The lump that had been lying in wait at the back of Chakotay's throat, propelled forward by nervous tension and guilt, choked him as he entered the Mess Hall. His crew, hearing the strangled gasp, spun around to face him and the desperate hope that shone falteringly out of most of those familiar pairs of eyes made him freeze several feet away from the group. Before now, he'd always viewed them as resilient, combat toughened and ready for anything, but in that moment the friends he saw appeared very different. To eyes now cleared of any illusion, the little group huddled together like a herd sheltering from a storm, heads down and shoulders hunched, gazes anxiously averted. At the very least, they were haggard, at worse they were malnourished, their ragged clothes hanging off hollowed out bodies. Rather than principled, maverick freedom fighters, they were refugees who had been left with nothing other than what they stood up in. <em>His <em>actions, not just on this day but over years, had left them like this, and still many of the faces reflected belief in him that verged on hero-worship…

Mariah Johnson's frightened, trusting question splintered his already breaking heart into stabbing shards. "What's going on Chakotay?"

Her words seemed to break the floodgates and his crew immediately crowded around him, not noticing when he flinched back guiltily, "Yeah…" Nathaniel Harrow broke in, "With the Valjean and the array gone, we've been worried…"

The questions came in such a rush that they sounded to Chakotay like incomprehensible babble. He looked over most of their heads to see Seven and B'Elanna standing apart from the others, their foreknowledge acting as a barrier. "We're staying here." He announced quietly, readying himself for onslaught, but when it didn't come and they just stared at him blankly he found himself repeating the torturous words, "We're staying here."

"Stay…Staying here?" Chell echoed, his blue face taking on a bovine look as he repeatedly blinked. "How…How is that supposed to work? Starfleet and Maquis…"

Chakotay grimaced, uncomfortably reminded that the same question had been going through his own head on loop. "Captain Janeway and I will figure that out, but I'm going to make sure that we're all fairly treated as equal members of this crew…" He forced out all in one breath.

A choked, disbelieving sound somewhere between a bitter, cackling laugh and a shriek left Seska's throat, "Yeah, right! And Starfleet has treated us _so _fairly before…"

Chakotay stiffened defensively as he took a deep breath to control himself, "I know this is hard, but _this _crew, _our _crew now, haven't done anything wrong by us. They've held up their end of the bargain so far…"

Seska's laugh became more brittle as she frowned at him pityingly, "Oh Chakotay, Janeway is playing you! What did she offer to get you to put your guard down? Amnesty? We'll be in the brig by the end of the night! Frankly I'm surprised they haven't press-ganged us already…"

Chakotay's jaw clenched as Seska's assessment hit uncomfortably close to the mark and the others began to mutter in nervous chorus. Seven jumped in like a frustrated cat pouncing on a flighty flock of pigeons. "Enough! Irrelevant, vitriolic scare-mongering will not improve the situation…"

"You'll just have to assimilate me if you want me to shut up." Seska shot back icily, smirking as a tremor passed over Seven's face at the reference.

"Hey!" Chakotay shouted sharply, holding his hands up to regain order and was very glad when everyone fell into a mulish silence. "At the end of the day, this is making the best of a _very_ bad situation. We're trapped in the Delta Quadrant without a ship of our own, and that's the cold truth. You'll have to trust me in that I'm not going to let Janeway walk all over us, but we do have to accept this for what it is, okay?" He paused for breath as he saw stunned, resigned nods start to ripple over the group and added in a less harsh but just as strained tone, holding out the PADD, "I've been given quarters to assign to you all, and that's the only thing we're going to deal with tonight. We're going to sleep on what's happened today and then we'll begin on the long-term situation tomorrow, understood?"

He saw relief flicker across many faces at the thought of at least a warm bed, and maybe a hot meal, and let himself believe that the reasoning behind his decision had gotten through to them. Seska's words however, as she snatched the PADD, stayed with him. "Saint Kathryn will be pleased with her day's work: save a parasite of a race like the Ocampa, destroy the direct route to the Alpha Quadrant, and her fait accompli, convert a bunch of Maquis criminals to dutiful penitents for the price of a few beds."

* * *

><p>Seven stood in the middle of 'her' new quarters, trying to ignore the half unpacked boxes of belongings spread throughout the central room. These quarters had initially been assigned to one of Sickbay's dead nurses. She could probably have dismissed that disturbing factor as irrelevant easily enough, but even if she had been used to sleep, which she wasn't, she doubted she could've achieved that restful state here or anywhere. The enhanced capacity of her mind could follow several concurrent lines of thought at once, and none of them were good. Add to that the incessant, throbbing ache coursing up her Borg prosthetic arm from fingertip to where it embedded into her shoulder, a residual effect from the defensive electrical pulse she'd been hit while interfacing with the array, and rest could not feasibly be granted.<p>

Her mind was distant enough from the reality of the room however for her to jump violently as the doors opened with an unassuming swoosh. "Sorry Seven, I didn't mean to startle you…" Chakotay apologised wanly.

Seven waved him off dismissively, rather embarrassed that she'd been caught so off-guard, given the hostile environment. "It is late. I thought you would be sleeping just as you advised the others…"

Chakotay grimaced as he stepped further into the room. "Turns out it's easier said than done." He admitted.

"Yes…" Seven conceded ruefully.

Chakotay eyed her in concern. She was cradling her Borg arm against her chest, apparently unconsciously. "What happened to your arm?"

Seven started like a deer caught in headlights, her arm immediately snapping back down to her side. "A minor injury from my trip to the array." She explained stiltedly, "It will be fine."

"Maybe you should get that holographic doctor to look at it?"

Seven shook her head doubtfully, "It is not programmed to treat my Borg physiology." She pointed out coolly.

"No doctor ever knows how to deal with that straight off Seven." Chakotay reminded her wryly, "It might even prove more…adaptable than most, since it's a hologram. Either way, it looks like we'll be stuck depending on it for the foreseeable future." He sighed worriedly, "Regeneration would help wouldn't it?" His eyes widened in horror as he made a realisation, "Oh no, your regeneration unit was destroyed on the Valjean! How long will you stay healthy without it?"

Seven shifted uncomfortably, she was already drained, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Long enough." She muttered, frowning up at him impatiently as he made a few long strides to stand questioningly in front of her, "I will begin to build a replacement tomorrow. I have already confirmed that there are sufficient components on board to do so."

Chakotay swallowed as he regarded her, "You promise me that you'll start on that first thing tomorrow?" he pressed.

"I promise." Seven agreed with a soft sigh.

"Okay." Chakotay replied, visibly relieved, before he began to study her more intently. "Are you alright here by yourself?"

"Yes." Seven answered, a little too quickly and Chakotay saw through it. He knew her well enough to know that she hated and _feared _being alone more than probably anything else. She would never be a social butterfly, and it might be paradoxical considering how she'd been trapped in a group of billions most of her short life, but he still knew it was the case. On the Valjean she'd always shared with the other female crewmembers, so she'd never really been alone at night, and tonight was, he suspected, one of the worse nights they'd endure.

"Look, do you want me to stay here with you tonight?" He blushed a little at her confused expression, "I'd take the couch, you'd have the bed." He clarified awkwardly.

"You require more sleep than I do. It is irrational that you take the couch…" Seven began to protest, but Chakotay still noted that she didn't say no to his suggestion.

He shook his head at her as he interrupted, "Seven, if Tom Paris really 'owns my life', then I certainly owe _you_ a little chivalry at least."

Seven coloured at the sentiment before trying to regain control of herself."Chivalry is irre…"

"Irrelevant, I know." Chakotay finished for her dryly, giving her a tiny lopsided smile as he settled on the couch. Despite this veneer of light-heartedness, Seven could see clear evidence of his intense strain, in the unfamiliar lines that marked his young face, the shadows under his eyes. It struck her as probable that he didn't want to be alone tonight either.

"Fine. I will accept your arrangement." She conceded softly, abruptly turning to head towards the bedroom. She programmed the door between the two rooms to stay open, so that they could each benefit from the reassurance of the other's presence. After that she went to lie on the bed, positioning herself onto her right side to face the door and save her painful arm. As she settled on the pillow without bothering to get under the duvet or take off more than her shoes, she listened as the lights dimmed for Chakotay's movements. She heard the two soft thuds as he kicked off his shoes against the carpet, then as he flopped onto the couch. However, his restlessness soon became apparent to her. Her enhanced vision let her see his outline clearly in the dark, constantly moving in restive spurts, his pacing pounding through the floor.

Eventually he crept cautiously into the bedroom, finding the edge of the bed by touch in the dark. Seven felt the bed sink by her feet as he sat down and asked softly, "The couch was insufficient?"

Chakotay chuckled brokenly, "It's actually an improvement on my bunk in the Valjean." He muttered, biting down hard on his lip as he thought of his lost ship, he'd never longed to be there so much! "I just can't sleep, too much to think about…" He trailed off, feeling his nerves begin to snap. He'd been able to keep a tight grip on his composure while defensively facing a barrage of panicked questions from the rest of his crew, but something about Seven's resigned, dignified silence on the matter made that mask crack and fall away. "I just keep asking myself what the _hell_ I'm supposed to do now?!" he exploded suddenly, the distraught, enraged words bouncing around the small room and causing Seven to jump.

For a couple of minutes she wondered whether he truly wanted an answer, but as she feel his frame shaking against her legs she knew she'd need to get him to 'open up' if she didn't want him to implode. "I…presume that you will have to come to an agreement with Captain Janeway." She replied cautiously.

She felt, rather than saw, Chakotay turn his head to gaze down at her. "What if I can't?" he whispered faintly, no one other than Seven would have been able to hear it.

She turned her face more securely into her pillow for a moment before saying calmly, "You will Chakotay. You are one of the most diplomatic people I know of, you are very like your father in that respect." She told him with soft certainty.

Chakotay swallowed hard, overwhelmed for a moment by the mention of his father, and then wordlessly flopped back onto the bed, his feet still on the floor. "Maybe." He murmured thickly before sighing heavily as he stared up at the ceiling, "But the only way I can feasibly see us cooperating is if I submit us to the Starfleet way of doing things, I get the feeling Janeway won't have it any other way."

Seven couldn't deny that, she'd come to exactly the same conclusion about the older woman. "Most likely not." She admitted, "But is working as Starfleet in this situation really impossible for you? You were once…"

"I remember, I remember too clearly." Chakotay broke in; shuffling up until his body was completely on the bed and then turning on his side to face her back. Something about following the graceful curve of her spine in the dark soothed him inexplicably. "I loved Starfleet, and God help me I still believe in all it's supposed to represent even after everything that's happened, but I don't know if I can go back to that place where I could…live it. They betrayed me, betrayed every member of our crew. How can I ask them to forget that?"

"Not forget, learn to live with perhaps." Seven advised him quietly, her whole frame tensing beside him as she added, "You do not think we could adapt to Starfleet for the sake of survival?"

"Don't get me wrong, our crew are good people, the best." Chakotay told her passionately, "If I didn't believe they were on a level playing field ability wise with every Starfleet crew out there I wouldn't have let them risk their lives. But still…it's a lot to ask. And Janeway, what if she's changing her mind right now? She could criminalise us and make sure that we're at the bottom of the heap in this crew, the most expendable. Hell, whatever I said in the Mess Hall, we could be facing a fight to not end up in the Brig tomorrow…"

"If you truly believed Janeway would act like that we wouldn't be here right now!" Seven cut him off with harsh impatience. She knew it was exhaustion and fear that was making him talk this way, but the suspicion that he had let Seska get under his skin _again_ left her, naturally, feeling irritated.

"No…" Chakotay conceded, shaken by her outburst, "We wouldn't." He said with more conviction, "Whatever kind of Captain she may turn out to be in other ways, she has integrity."

"Yes." Seven murmured detachedly, she was reserving her overall judgement of Janeway for now. "Whatever happens Chakotay, you must come to a committed agreement. This crew must serve as one decisive unit."

Chakotay stiffened as the absolutism in her tone. "What do you mean by that?" he asked tightly, becoming angry, "We can't exactly turn this ship into a Borg Collective…"

"You are refusing to understand what I am saying." Seven interrupted icily, hurt despite herself by the 'Borg Collective' comment, which Chakotay actually regretted as soon as it left his mouth. "I am not saying that you should submit to Janeway's will for the sake of an easy journey, I am telling you that any inner conflict that will weaken the ship will be deadly. There are threats here that are utterly unknown in the Alpha Quadrant."

Chakotay felt his hair stand on end at her coldly certain tone, suddenly glad she wasn't facing him; he didn't want to see the expression in her eerily piercing eyes. "What kind of…" He started to ask anxiously.

"They will become each relevant as we encounter them." Seven answered tiredly, before her voice took on that chilling clarity he associated with the darkest revelations of her Borg knowledge. "The Borg have already made their assessment of humanity Chakotay. Erratic, conflicted, disorganised. Every decision is debated, every action questioned. Every individual entitled to their own small opinion. Humans lack harmony, cohesion…greatness." Chakotay heard her take a shallow, painful breath in, as if coming out of a daze, "They believe our conflicted nature will be our undoing. The crew of U.S.S Voyager cannot be the ones to prove them right."

She listened intently for his reply, for his passionate denial and retort in defence of humanity, but it didn't come. Only the warm breath of his long, heavy sigh brushing against her back told her he'd acknowledged her words at all, and she knew then that he had no answer to give her.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I can hardly believe how consistently long these chapters are getting, and along with a busy past few weeks it's slowed down my update rate for every story, I apologise! Anyway, on another note, if you recognise what Seven says at the end, it's because it's (only slightly altered) canon dialogue from 'Scorpion'. That speech is probably my favourite from that episode, and I think it fits into this situation too, because there is a lot of truth in it in my opinion, even if it is pretty brutal. **


	56. Sleepless in Space

**A/n: Thanks to Anniexus for updating her brilliant C/7 story, 'Relative Human Errors' with two great new chapters! Chapter 5 in particularly had some lovely scene with Seven and the Borg kids. Back on the subject of this story, thank you as always for the reviews, you asked questions I had to think over and I hope this chapter begins to answer them. Well done to seraphim2db for correcting guessing how this new chapter is going to begin. ;) **

Seven started to stir, blinked her eyes once, then twice. A lazy feeling of confusion gradually washed over her as her eyes refused to stay open, staying closed for a fraction of a second longer every time she blinked. The end of a regeneration cycle would not drag out in this way, sensory and mental alertness was instantaneous as soon as the programme ran its course, it would be inefficient system otherwise. The soft click of her ocular implant coming fully online acted like a flash of sunlight flooding her mind; all at once the indentifying details of her location stood out to her starkly, even when drenched in the sickly green aura the implant provided to pierce the dark. The slight sheen given off by the wall panels, the sturdy but impersonal furniture, the prominent weave of the dark grey carpet, obviously newly laid. She was on Voyager…in the quarters which had been hastily assigned to her.

The memories of the night before trickled in with an unusual, reluctant sluggishness she blamed almost entirely on the inefficient process of sleep rather than the traumatic events of the day before, but soon information from her other senses pushed all thoughts of the past aside and trapped her in the present. Firstly, she became conscious of a weight thrown loosely around her waist, lying over her hip. One glance downwards, even in her sleep dazed state, was enough to recognise Chakotay's arm; his broad hand had curled further inwards to rest lightly on her abdomen. Slowly, it came to her attention just how physically close they actually were, he hadn't just reached out for her at some point in the night, but had spooned up behind her. She'd either unconsciously shuffled back towards him or he had rolled forward, probably a mixture of both considering how close they'd ended up. Their legs had fitted together, his knees snugly against the backs of her own, the soles of her feet neatly tucked towards his shins. The cosy warmth that had contained her within her initial drowsy, dreamlike state was burned away by the uncomfortable heat surging up her body, as if she'd transformed at some point into a just lit match, as she became inexplicably aware of the contours of his taut torso muscles pressing into her back. She forced herself to exhale slowly as she remembered that they were both fully dressed, she was being oversensitive! She had to just lay there for a few seconds, wondering how to get out of this position without waking him, as she tried to slow her heart rate to match the reassuringly steady, heavy breaths of Chakotay, which were tickling the back of her neck. The majority of his face was buried amongst her hair.

Gradually she managed to extricate herself from him by rolling her body away until she was clutching the very edge of the bed to steady herself and sat up. Of both her flushed cheeks, she knew one was particularly warm because not only had Chakotay been clutching her with one arm, she'd been using the bicep of the other as a pillow. A shiver of disconcertion, and of shock at the withdrawal from his warmth, ran over her and she inhaled sharply as she felt him move; only pausing for an instant before glancing shamefully over her shoulder at him. The crease of anxiety in his strong brows, present even as sleep lingered over him, deepened perceptively as he grasped at the now empty space around him. He mumbled something grumpily but the words themselves were incomprehensible. "Go back to sleep." Seven forced out, her tone sounding like an order even to her ears as her hand froze self-consciously just above his face. Shyly, she hurriedly moved the soothing action to his arm, hoping as she lightly rubbed it that the circulation she'd no doubt cut off by laying her head unthinkingly down on the limb would slowly return. She bit her lip, a lump rising in her throat, as he stilled at the sound of her words, his face smoothing out slightly as he repositioned on the bed with a deep sigh. The night before had taken a cruel toll on him, and she knew with a sudden certainty that her responses to his concerns had not helped. The conclusions she'd drawn then now formed a knot in her stomach as if she'd swallowed a stone, weighing down her heart. Yes, what she'd said had been true, but one of the first things she thought she'd learned about humans was that they didn't react well to her, the Collective's, interpretation of the truth. Chakotay's reaction proved that, he'd treated her like one of those teddy bears Sekaya had had in her bed, a placebo comfort when there was nothing else to hold onto.

And she hadn't provided him with much. The only advice she'd passed on was the pragmatic, robotic wisdom of the Borg. She hadn't heard the Collective's voice pressing on her so inescapably since that last, stretching moment of connection before her Cube slamming into the surface of Dorvan V had cut her off forever. She hadn't considered that assessment of humanity since…since she'd been awoken to her own, but something about Voyager's situation had made her fear that not just her own humanity, but that everyone she cared for, was at risk. Turning outward, away from the room to stare out of the viewport, she automatically began to catalogue the stars dotted benignly around them, forming a detailed map of their position in her mind. The number of planets aligned to each star, the spacial anomalies surrounding them, the Borg designation for each resident and wandering species, their flaws and advantages, all began to crowd her brain until tears leaked from her eyes, the only way any emotion could escape and make an impact on all this pessimistic data. As she angrily lifted her stronger enhanced hand to swipe the tears away, her eyes focused for a split second on how the salty wetness made the metal on her fingers glint in the dark, making the paradox of her existence visually obvious. A crying Borg… A chill passed over her again, and this time she almost gave into it, ready to crumple against Chakotay's side just to feel warmth and life again when she was suddenly confronted with the odds of death. At the same time though, she felt a surge of fury towards him. Why had he pursued this? Fighting the Cardassians wouldn't have brought anything they'd lost back; he'd _known _that just as much as she had… She should've pulled him more firmly in the direction of leaving the Maquis when he'd wavered after Terok Din, should've thrown herself at his feet and begged him to abandon honour and vengeance. No, going further back, she should've never let him join in the first place. If she had enough wits to accompany him against his orders, she should've had enough willpower to knock him out and drag him back to Sekaya to grieve properly…

The taste of the iron tinged sweetness of blood in her mouth as regrets made a wound on her bitten lip brought her back to herself. There was no point to these thoughts; they were as destructive as the conflict she'd warned Chakotay of. She had problems in the present to focus on, the first of those being finding sufficient components for a makeshift regeneration system, or more likely, discovering that such components did not exist here. Kolopak had taught her that honesty was a virtue, but he'd also advised her as to the appropriateness of certain 'white lies'. Telling Chakotay last night that she already had the dilemma of her regeneration needs solved had been one such 'white lie'. In all honesty, she'd been surprised, relieved but surprised, that he'd believed her. When exactly did he think she'd found the time in all the events of last night to scavenge Voyager? Still, it had been for the best, he wouldn't have dropped that problem, out of concern for her, if she'd told him the absolute truth, and he'd had many more issues last night to sort through than not possessing a regeneration alcove to give her.

She stood up shakily from the bed, absently scraping her hair, loose and afflicted with 'bed head' after the night she'd had, as she snatched up her shoes. She'd get dressed in clean clothes later, when there wasn't the risk of Chakotay waking… A soft sigh left her throat as she looked down at Chakotay, now sprawled over the entire bed. This arrangement couldn't continue. She'd get Lucky back from B'Elanna. Chakotay had left their canine companion with the other woman the night before when she'd been completely unresponsive, if Seven could get the animal back, Chakotay wouldn't be bound to a compulsive obligation that he shouldn't leave her alone. B'Elanna would be the best qualified to assist her in locating possible alcove components anyway, and she had promised Chakotay, although said promise was somewhat invalidated by the fact that it had been based on a lie, that she'd start to build it this morning…

* * *

><p>B'Elanna woke with a start, instantly alert despite the painful cramp in her muscles as she tried to discern what had disturbed her. As the regular, panting puffs of hot breath hit her in face however, she soon discerned the culprit. "Get off me, you smelly mutt..." She ground out through gritted teeth as she gave the Valjean's mascot a shove to get him to move. Lucky shifted off her lap with a soft grunt and jumped gracefully off the couch in one bound, narrowly missing the shards of glass littered around the carpet. B'Elanna couldn't help but wince at the reminder, at the memory of that stupid little glass bowl on these quarters' dusty coffee table, the one she'd gained a cathartic, bitter satisfaction in smashing to smithereens before breaking down herself. Rubbing one hand listlessly against the drying, gritty trail tears had left on her face, she apologetically scratched Lucky behind the ears. "Maybe Chakotay was right to get you to guard me, although you haven't exactly done a good job of protecting this room from me…" She chuckled bitterly at the irony of Chakotay presuming to give her, a half-Klingon, a guard dog of sorts. Out of his entire crew she'd probably have been one of the people most ready to tear any Starfleet officer limb from limb if they broke their deal. She'd almost objected straight off when Chakotay had ordered the dog to stay with her in these new quarters, but she hadn't even had the energy at that point to raise an eyebrow. She suspected part of his reasoning was an attempt to prevent Tom Paris making some sort of attempt to keep her company, although Lucky had never done anything more threatening than lick the smart-mouth fly-boy, and if Paris had made such an overture B'Elanna herself would've sent him packing quicker than any dog could. It was probably Chakotay just looking out for her too; he was thoughtful that way, one of the only people who had looked at her closely enough to see the cracks in her hard Klingon shell. He'd known she had a soft spot for dogs ever since she'd told him, stupidly in hindsight, about the time her long lost father had brought a puppy home for her. She'd had just enough time to christen him 'Tribble' before her mother's typically violent objections had led to her father hastily withdrawing the gift.<p>

The buzz of the doorbell made her jump, then reach blindly around for some kind of weapon, before Lucky's eager, relaxed bark made her realise that a person meaning her ill probably wouldn't ring the doorbell. Instead of calling an order to the computer to let that person inside however, she walked to the door herself. "Oh…" She exhaled when she saw Seven standing there, moving aside to allow Lucky to pad over to his mistress' side, "I guess you're just here for the dog, since you're not holding a phaser rifle?" she asked drily.

"I did want to see Lucky." Seven confirmed, keeping her gaze on B'Elanna even as she continually stroked the dog's head. If B'Elanna didn't know the girl better, she would've viewed that as a nervous tick. Still though, Seven of Nine did look different, more disordered than usual. She was normally, eerily, irritatingly, pristine but right now her mask seemed to have slipped. The same purplish mauve circles which B'Elanna could feel bruising her own eyes were particularly vivid when framed by the garish silver of Borg implants. Her hair didn't form its usual golden helmet, but had been half-heartedly pulled into a wispy ponytail, and though her gaze was clear B'Elanna saw that she hadn't been able to completely dim the redness of her nose. That evidence of distress, of tears being drawn from a being she thought of as a rock when Chakotay didn't have his magical hold on her, brought unexpected empathy from B'Elanna.

"And?" she pressed knowingly. If Seven had only wanted Lucky she would've turned around and left with him by now.

Seven's shoulders straightened in readiness, "And I need to request your assistance…" She inhaled sharply, "…to locate appropriate components for a replacement regeneration alcove."

B'Elanna's eyes widened as the image of the alcove she'd seen, and tried to walk past as quickly as possible, on the Valjean. Some of it had relied on recognisable parts pilfered from whatever the Maquis had technology wise, but on the whole it had been a Borg coffin, a coffin she would've had no idea and no desire to pull apart. "Wasn't the one you had on the Valjean mostly built from the remnants of what was left on Dorvan V?" she asked slowly, wincing at the thought that, of all the things, the people, who could've survived the attack on Chakotay's homeworld intact it had been a Borg alcove. When Seven nodded her affirmative, despite herself B'Elanna gulped, "Without any of that, with just the non-essential systems on this one ship to search through, how likely is it that you'll be able to build what you need?"

Seven bowed her head slightly, but other than that appeared impressively nonplussed. "The chances are marginal at best." She admitted matter-of-factly.

"What did Chakotay say to that?" B'Elanna asked worriedly, her brow furrowing further when Seven began to look distinctly uncomfortable, shifting uneasily, guiltily, from foot to foot. "Seven! You didn't tell him?"

"I…temporarily misled him." Seven replied skittishly, her frame bristling defensively when B'Elanna's disbelieving frown became a scathing glare, "He has enough concerns relating to our entire crew without having to also think of another of mine!" she snapped brokenly.

B'Elanna ran a hand through her thick, curling hair as she slumped against the threshold of her doorway, "I know. I know that…" She conceded, "It's just not fair to spring that on him later either…" She sighed as she studied Seven thoughtfully, "You've been outside the Collective for what…almost seven years now right?" Seven again nodded, obviously uncertain where she was going with this. "Are you sure you still _need _to regenerate or is it just habit? Have you ever tried to just sleep at night…" She started to say 'like a human being' but stopped herself just before Seven interrupted.

"Sleep is…is…" Seven began to exclaimed heatedly, a rosy tint that struck B'Elanna as a blush surging up her neck and flooding her cheeks as she struggled to complete her sentence, "…inefficient!"

"Alright then…" B'Elanna began cautiously, taken aback by her strong reaction. Would the Borg really be so…embarrassed at the very thought of sleeping? She pushed off the door and fully joined Seven in the hallway. "I suppose I'd better start helping you to find these components then shouldn't I?" she muttered with an exasperated sigh, "We can't have _you _being inefficient and I really need to have a look at this ship's systems anyway, see if it'll hold up to get us back to the Alpha Quadrant."

* * *

><p>Within a few minutes of Seven leaving him, Chakotay began to wake from a surprisingly empty, dreamless sleep, met with a darkened room and a rapidly cooling, vacant bed. "Ugh…" He moaned vaguely into the nearest pillow, his head instantly beginning to throb. Breathing in to ease the tension, the faint scent of Seven, of strawberry shampoo, clean skin and an underlying hint of metallic sweetness, made his heart rate quicken disconcertingly and heat spark up his spine. "Seven?" he mumbled, his voice growing louder, panicky, as memories of the day before, momentarily banished, rushed back in. "Seven! Seven, where are you?" He made an agitated growl, "Computer, locate Seven of Nine!" he ordered as he rolled onto his back then sat up.<p>

"Seven of Nine is in Engineering." The Computer answered laconically.

"Well, at least she's wearing her comm. badge." Chakotay muttered as he started to swing over the edge of the bed. A glance at the clock told him it was barely after five in the morning, meaning that he'd had maybe four hours sleep, tops. Quickly though, the tension he'd felt when he'd laid down was returning…

"Mr Chakotay…" The Captain's smoky voice crackled with exhaustion, "Could you report to my Ready Room? We have a lot of things to figure out."

Had she been monitoring him? Waiting for him to wake? Not that it mattered, or more accurately it didn't help to think like that, they did have a lot to talk about. If he was a good judge of character, he knew the words were probably bursting out of Kathryn Janeway, although he didn't feel ready to say anything. 'Conflict…will be our undoing.' The gist of what Seven had said chilled his blood in warning, enough to force out his reply, "I'm on my way Captain."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I eventually decided to have Chakotay and Janeway's conversation in the next chapter, I started it and it just had a completely different tone which in my mind was better suited as separate from this chapter. I hope you're not disappointed after such a long wait. At least I answered the worried questions about Lucky and started on the regeneration dilemma! **


	57. Captain and Commander

**A/n: Thanks to NikkiB1973 for updating her hilarious P/T and C/7 story, 'The Night Shift' and to Anniexus for starting a collection of short and sweet C/7 stories, 'Short Collections'. Also, a shout out to seraphim2db for updating 'Annika and the Emissary' so regularly. I hope you all enjoy these stories, after reading and reviewing this chapter of course! ;) **

Chakotay felt the breath he'd inhaled sharply as he stood on the threshold of Captain Janeway's Ready Room rattle around in his tightening chest, trapped, as he stepped fully into the room itself, the doors sweeping closed behind him with a ghostly hiss. His toes curled in his worn shoes as he willed himself forward, but he found he couldn't move as his eyes took in his surroundings. It was in rooms like this, predictable cookie cutter moulds of dull grey, soul sapping uniformity, where the fate of his home and that of millions of others had been signed off with a flourish of some diplomat's pen, and in another similar room where a righteous Admiral had authorised his arrest warrant… He shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts that would only hamper the present. Seven would've declared them 'irrelevant'; it was unnerving to say the least to be jealous of her Borg-given ability to compartmentalise things so easily. As his eyes refocused, pulled away by sheer determination from the memories, real and imagined, that this place represented, his gaze finally settled on the woman who'd called him here, who _belonged_ here.

His entrance hadn't made an impression on her. She was behind her desk, but turned away from the door, perched precariously on the side of her chair. What he really noticed however, was what she held in her hand, a photo frame. He was standing too far away to glimpse the image, and was glad of it, just catching her in a moment of vulnerability felt voyeuristic enough. It was simple to guess what the photograph held anyway, cherished remembrances of a family member or a lover. It was also immediately evident to him that Janeway hadn't thought to take the advice she'd graciously ordained on the Maquis, she hadn't retreated to her quarters for the night. The irritably tossed aside blanket on the small sofa, the disordered state of the desk with PADDs covering it until he had to squint to see the shiny metallic surface of the desk top, told him all he needed to know. Not for the first time in the few minutes since he'd woken from his dark, mercifully dreamless sleep, he was relieved and grateful that Seven had allowed him to vent his emotions and fears the night before. Janeway hadn't been granted that gift, and now he had to hope she didn't explode with the pressure as they tried to sort…something out for both of their respective crews. "Captain?" he prompted uncertainly.

Janeway jumped violently, her thumb jerking to a halt in its constant circles rubbing the image of Mark's face, as if during one of the circuits she'd suddenly be able to really feel his warm skin, hear his loving voice. A push off with her feet spun her chair to the front, facing Chakotay. She braced herself against the desk with one hand while discreetly lowering the photo onto the desk; face down, away from prying eyes. "Did you speak to your crew last night?" she demanded breathlessly, closing her eyes for a moment to calm down as Chakotay's dark, wary gaze reflected sympathy rather than offence. She wasn't sure she could take being viewed like that right now, although it reassured her that she hadn't misjudged the man's fundamental character, whatever his crimes. "I mean…did you explain the _necessity _of both crews' working together?" she elaborated, probably unnecessarily, but in a more controlled, reasonable tone.

"I did." Chakotay replied simply, and for a moment she thought that taciturn answer was all she was going to get from him, which wouldn't exactly inspire hopes of real, committed collaboration, but in a couple of long, loping strides he was right in front of her, his weather-beaten hand brushing against her desk as he looked down at her. "And they understand what we're faced with, what'll take to get us home, but they're also…" He internally debated whether to be completely honest about how defeatist his crew had been, it could make them seem weak, and vulnerable to manipulation, but one look into her intent blue gaze told him she'd see through whatever half-truth he told. "They're _scared_ Captain, and honestly I think they have a right to be." He took a deep breath, not relishing that admission, "Whatever noble, shared goal we all have to get home, my crew have been burned by Starfleet before. We're thirty people, 'criminals' by Starfleet standards, refugees by others, and we'd have to be naïve not to realise that our bargaining position for equal treatment is pretty weak, but I'm not going to let them be taken advantage of…"

"I've never believed for a moment that you would." Janeway cut him off, "And let me make one thing clear, whatever our…conflicts of interest may have been in the Alpha Quadrant, as far as I'm concerned that's over now that we're 70,000 light-years away. I wouldn't take advantage of any group I was trying to come to a fair compromise with, and I certainly don't want you, or your crew, to view what we're doing to come together, trying to form _one _crew, as 'bargaining'."

Would she have said the same if the 'group' had been Cardassians? If Gul Evek's ship had been caught in the array instead of the Valjean? Chakotay swallowed, thinking like that wouldn't help, even if Seven's warnings as to what would happen to a divided crew weren't so dire. "I don't want to see it like that either, as far as I'm concerned we're in this together whether we like it or not, but I need to be sure that my crew will be treated fairly."

"You have my word Mr Chakotay. Perhaps you wouldn't accept the word of a Starfleet Captain, but…"

"No, but I'll take your word." Chakotay broke in, "If we're going to make this work, we need to put 'Maquis' and 'Starfleet' aside and be just _people_, people trying to find their way home."

Janeway gave him a weak, but appreciative smile. "I couldn't have put it better myself." She regarded him carefully; suddenly struck by how young he was under the self-possessed polish concern for his crew gave his roughened appearance. The hard wearing, basic, battle ready clothes he wore put her in mind of the images of outlaws her lecturer had presented in American history class, could he and his crew really conform to Starfleet conduct? The rules and ethics she'd sworn to uphold and which he had already forsaken once before? She remembered though, as the comparison came to mind, that the Delta Quadrant was the modern equivalent of the 'Wild West', maybe some outlaws were what they required to survive. "But I _can't _leave Starfleet behind completely. Voyager is a Starfleet ship and I'm going to run it as one." She found herself having the need to explain her rationale even when he didn't instantly object as she'd expected, "For this to work, everyone needs to know where they stand, we need some sort of structure, and Starfleet rules can give us that. We're in, literally, a new frontier and those regulations are designed to deal with the situations we're bound to face. The limits to exploration, first contact…" She trailed off, knowing that Chakotay, as an Academy graduate, would be as familiar with Starfleet's fundamental edicts as she was. "The thing is, do you think your crew will be able to become full-fledged crewmembers of a Starfleet vessel? Will they be willing to use their abilities to serve as officers, to guide and lead others as we see fit?"

"Yes." Chakotay confirmed without hesitation, "I wouldn't have recruited my people, put them in harm's way at my command, if I believed for a second that they weren't capable of rising to any challenge they were presented with. They're more than fit to serve on this ship."

Janeway readily exhaled, "Good." She murmured softly, "Because as I said last night, I've lost a lot of good people and I'm hoping that your people can help fill that void. I know that there are going to be…mixed emotions about working together, on my side as well as yours, but for the moment I'm proud of how we faced this situation together…"

"…and survived to tell the tale." Chakotay finished for her, "Believe me we're all grateful for that."

Janeway nodded stoically, "Yes." She agreed, her voice catching uneasily as she studied him. The prospect of offering him a pivotal role on the ship had seemed rational, and fair, in the thoughtful loneliness of the night before, but now, despite being persuaded as to his reasonableness, she felt doubt creep in. She tried to compare him to Aaron Cavit, the man who should've by rights been at her side through all this, in her mind but the equation just wouldn't work. They were nothing alike. Cavit had been an unwavering Starfleet man through and through, straightforward, decisive in judgement to the point of it being a fault, she only had to recall his treatment of Tom Paris to see that. Chakotay was so different. Still a powerful character, but he seemed to hold back. Even now, when she sensed he was being relatively candid, he was reserved, careful, cautious, assessing her constantly. This entire conversation had been playing out like some sort of complex chess game and she'd never had the patience for that. More give and take was demanded however. "I'd be grateful…" She began slowly, "…if you'd consider serving as Voyager's First Officer."

Chakotay started, the slackening of his jaw along with his widening eyes again betraying his youth for an instant before he managed to recover somewhat, his face closing up altogether. "What?" he questioned, trying his best not to sound overtly suspicious.

Janeway was unruffled, "It only seems fair, given the circumstances. We're truly combining these two crews after all, and you were the leader of one of them."

Yes, it _was _fair, fairer than Chakotay had ever expected her to be, considering everything. Yet, was this some sort of ploy to subdue the Maquis, throw them a bone so to speak? He didn't see that level of condescension in her face, but it also made him remember that he wouldn't have been a _Commander_ even if he'd stayed in Starfleet. He regarded her dubiously, "You know that I was only a Lieutenant when I resigned don't you?"

"I've read your entire file." Janeway assured him coolly, "And yes you were a Lieutenant, a Lieutenant who gained that promotion and the Medal of Valour for your heroism at Wolf 359 on the Saratoga…" She choked on her words, her eyes widening, as she made a realisation.

Chakotay guessed what it was. "Seven of Nine never stepped foot on the Saratoga." He informed her coldly, "In fact, she's never been on a Starfleet vessel of any kind before Voyager, my actions against the Borg at Wolf 359 were my own, although I admit that without what I'd heard from her about the Borg's capabilities I wouldn't have had any idea what to do."

"Oh." Janeway said faintly, trying to pull her train of thought back together, the idea of his Borg interloper, his shadow, had derailed her intention. "Well, that…piece of luck aside, your record before the Maquis is enviable, you were on the fast track to command." She stared him down, as if searching for regret in his face, and couldn't seem to suppress a sigh when he revealed none. "I don't think even the most embittered member of my crew would argue that you haven't earned command experience as a Maquis leader, your decisions yesterday played a large part in our survival."

"Thank you." Chakotay replied sincerely, feeling validated against his will. "I'd be happy…and proud to serve as Voyager's First Officer to get us home."

Janeway allowed herself to be satisfied, although uncertainty as to her own wisdom made the feeling ring somewhat hollow. "Then congratulations are in order Commander. Tuvok will be the second officer, I hope you're okay with that?"

Chakotay heard the tentativeness in the question. "Of course, I respect him for doing his duty, even if he was doing it under my nose." What Chakotay was truly concerned about was Tuvok's reaction to him leapfrogging over him, he doubted any of his and the Captain's decisions would seem wholly logical to the Vulcan. "I have one suggestion about a particular post though…"

Janeway decided to humour him. "And that would be?" she asked archly.

"Seven should be appointed Science Officer." He answered without preamble.

The Captain stiffened in her chair, instantly defensive, even moving back from him as if he'd suddenly sprouted two heads. "Voyager never had a Science Officer." She deflected.

"Captain…" Chakotay began patiently, as if explaining something to small child, "This isn't going to be a four week mission into the Badlands, if you really intend to stick to Starfleet regs and explore the Delta Quadrant while searching for a route home then we're going to need a Science Officer, and believe me, Seven is the best fit for that role that _any _ship is ever going to get."

Janeway sighed, realising that he'd trapped her within her own explorer's logic. "Alright, I'll level with you." She said eventually, "It's hard enough for me to trust ex-Maquis, I'm sure you can understand that, but an ex-Borg is another matter altogether…"

Chakotay bristled, and for the first time she saw real, unfettered hostility radiating from him. "_Ex_ is the important part of that! God, just because she was assimilated at _six years old _does that make her an evil pariah for the rest of her life? _She _saved us from the Kazon more than you or I did." He spat out, cringing as he saw Janeway winch and realising he'd gone too far. "I honestly believe that Seven could be vital to this crew, or else I wouldn't have suggested it Captain." He told her quietly.

Janeway bit her lip, shaken by his impassioned speech and also by the fact that Tuvok and Tom's horrific hints of a child being assimilated were obviously true. "What's her name?" she asked softly.

"Her name?" Chakotay echoed blankly, and Janeway was somewhat charmed by his apparent acceptance of 'Seven' for what she was.

"Her human name." Janeway explained, "Her _real _name. I need to know the history of the people I have on my Bridge with me."

Chakotay was surprised by her gentle tone, but still uneasy, Seven's past was her own after all, no matter how tightly it was entwined with his. "Annika." He murmured reluctantly, "Annika Hansen. I was eighteen, desperate to get off to the Academy, when a Cube crash landed on Dorvan V. My father…he insisted that we look for survivors, but I armed myself with a phaser rather than a medkit. She was the only drone we found, still sprouting 'Resistance is futile' even as she was dying." His face twisted, "I wanted to finish _it _off, but my father realised that she was the same age as my sister…"

"You helped her." Janeway murmured, knowing that it was taking a lot from him to tell her all this. "But none of you informed Starfleet." She couldn't help the note of accusation that entered his voice.

"No." Chakotay conceded, "My people, they were convinced she was a gift from the Spirits, their gods, and that it was our duty to protect her and help her heal. It's considered a sin to reject a gift. Beyond that, my father believed Starfleet would use her for their own ends…" His face hardened, "Everything I've seen as a Maquis has proved him right about that."

Janeway flinched but resolved to take the high ground. "Well, I hope her treatment here on Voyager shows you how humanitarian Starfleet truly is." She responded tightly, "I'll consider what you suggested as a post for her but I'll have to speak to her myself first."

Chakotay chose this moment to stand up in one smooth moment. "That's all I'm asking for Captain." He said respectfully, "A chance to let my crew help as much as they possibly can, without discrimination."

"I know." Janeway admitted in the same tone, "You're dismissed Commander."

Chakotay's frame relaxed as her use of his new rank confirmed her acceptance of his conditions. "Yes Captain." He replied simply as he turned neatly on his heel to move back towards the door.

"Oh wait…" Janeway added hurriedly, "I'm going to off the position of Chief Helmsmen to Tom Paris, will your people…"

Chakotay gave his head a rueful shake, and for the first time she was humour in his handsome features. "Don't worry." He sighed, a wry smirk pulling at his full lips, "I'll deal with any fallout from that, my life does belong to him after all." He was out of the door before his very bemused Captain could ask him to shine light on what he could possibly mean.

**A/n: Please review, this chapter was a challenge to say the least. **


	58. EMH aka, Encroaching Medical Hassle

**A/n: Hi everyone, I'm back! I had a wonderful time, but am now more than ready to get back into writing new chapters! There's a very talented new C/7 writer who started posting while I was away. I know you'll like the three related stories 'Leap of Faith', 'The River of Time' (no relation to my story of the same name) and 'Alternatives' by cojack. 'Leap of Faith' is a lovely post Endgame fic and its sequels 'The River of Time' deals with an alien experiment where several versions of Chakotay all meet, 'Alternatives' deals with the aftermath of that incident. These stories introduce AUs just as believable as I hope 'The Gift' is, so support these stories too. **

"You have to at least _try _going to Sickbay before we do anything more drastic." B'Elanna reasoned tersely as she prodded Seven of Nine down the main thoroughfare of Voyager's fifth deck towards Sickbay. "I don't want to have to go to Janeway and request that we take apart one of the transporters for components until we're on better terms!"

"I would not permit you to make such a request for merely the sake of my health." Seven responded tightly, "The loss of one of the transporters or any of the main systems to in turn provide for my regeneration would negatively affect this entire crew's ability to return to the Alpha Quadrant."

"_Two _crews." B'Elanna corrected pointedly before pushing her original train of thought home, "I don't think Chakotay would consider you 'mere', if you give up too quickly I'll just need to tell him and he'll have another situation to deal with…"

A flinch rattled Seven's frame before she turned to face her provoker, the movement so mechanically graceful that it looked as if she was spinning on an axel. Her eyes narrowed darkly for an instant before she allowed herself a short sigh of admission, the strain of the past couple of hours painstakingly combing through Voyager's systems for technological components that could form a pseudo-regeneration alcove beginning to show even on her carefully regulated features. "I do not believe that a holographic substitute could comprehend my physiology without overloading. Even Dr Chovak, who succeeded in removing most of my implants while stabilising me, could never find a substitute for regeneration." She revealed resignedly, her shoulders dipping even as she met B'Elanna's gaze levelly.

"Well…" B'Elanna took a deep breath as she tried to reverse the drain of colour she could feel from her face. It wasn't that she and Seven were _friends_, their working relationship was already combustible without socialising being forced on them too, but B'Elanna was astute enough to realise when someone had earned her respect and appreciation, and she suspected Seven felt the same way or else B'Elanna wouldn't have lasted long as the Valjean's Engineer, Klingon temper or not. She also knew that if Seven were to sicken, or worse, as a direct result of this damned marooning then it would destroy Chakotay. He would undoubtedly blame himself because he'd taken the hard choice to sacrifice the Valjean. "This hologram, much as I hate to admit it, might have some cause for his pomposity if he has so many doctors' knowledge programmed in that he _can _come up with something for you." She gave a weak shrug as they finally reached Sickbay's doors, "It's worth a shot." She urged ruefully.

Seven arched her eyebrows slightly even as she pursed her lips, "Hopefully it will be an accurate 'shot'." She answered as she stepped forward and the doorway began to slide open.

The Doctor barely lifted his gaze as the door opened at first, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. "Unless you're injured or a nurse for me to train, your presence isn't required anymore than mine is right now…" His half-hearted tirade stopped as his sensors took in Seven, "Well, if it isn't the one person who remembered to deactivate me." He greeted drily, suddenly business like as he approached her, "What can I do for you?"

Seven, her doubts partially confirmed by his reaction, regarded him stiffly. "I require…assistance."

The hologram promptly grasped the medical tricorder perched on the edge of his desk and began a thorough general scan, eyes firmly on the device. "Can you elaborate as to the problem?"

Seven fought the urge to take in an anxious breath. "As your scans are no doubt informing you, my original human physiology has been altered by complete Borg assimilation and then partial recovery. I have always regenerated as I did prior to my separation from the Collective, but my alcove was lost in the destruction of the Valjean and so I no longer possess that method to maintain my implants."

The Doctor lowered his tricorder for a moment to address her with the proper confidence. "It's my purpose in…life to treat patients. We'll discover another method, just as I found the cure for that previously unknown disease the Caretaker inflicted on Miss Torres and Ensign Kim." He flashed a proudly beatific smile in B'Elanna's direction, who couldn't help rolling her eyes even as she nodded in grateful acknowledgement. The Doctor however, had already moved his attention fully back onto Seven, grasping her commandingly by the arm, "As my team of programmers often said, 'There's more than one way to skin a cat'. I'll find a way to treat you."

Seven halted halfway to the biobed, peering at him dubiously. "Skin a cat?" she echoed uneasily.

The Doctor shrugged sheepishly as he read the confusion and disgust flickering over her face. "In a matter of speaking." He clarified awkwardly, giving her a small smile, "It seems the Borg didn't provide you with many metaphors, but hopefully you _do _know about regeneration systems and your implants in order to assist me."

"I can." Seven confirmed, trying to make herself marginally comfortable on the biobed as Lucky settled nearby on the floor.

The Doctor's eyebrows shot up to his non-existent hairline. "Didn't I inform you when we first met that animals aren't exactly suitable for a medical facility?"

"Well, maybe cleaning up after him will fill up some of your spare time when someone next forgets to deactivate you?" B'Elanna quipped archly.

The Doctor didn't deign that with a response, but didn't question the dog's presence again, instead interrogating Seven for details about her medical history and previous requirements. As the interview dragged on, B'Elanna couldn't help noting with amusement how the hologram's almost constant expression of lackadaisical boredom and dissatisfaction transformed into an absorbed fascination as he circled Seven, examining her from head to foot. His programmers had created an issue with his personality, but a doctor's work ethic was obviously in the somewhere, under the artificial ego.

It took over an hour before the hologram finally stepped back from Seven, satisfaction, and relief, evident on his face as he abruptly declared. "In my medical opinion, you are perfectly healthy and should be able to stay that way, with some relatively minor adjustments to your lifestyle."

Instead of his words putting her at ease, Seven felt her tension go up a notch, her fists clenching at her sides as she sat up. "Which data led you to draw that conclusion?" she demanded sharply, fearing the idea of her hopes being falsely lifted even more than having them dashed.

The Doctor tapped his computer console with the index finger of one hand and held up his tricorder with the other. "The data from the full physical examination I just conducted on you." He answered, glancing briefly at B'Elanna, "It appears your engineer friend's hunch was accurate enough, you're not nearly as dependent on your cybernetic systems as you were when you were first freed…"

"Six years, eleven months and eight days ago." Seven filled in, her stoic expression faltering as disbelief slammed into her. "How is it possible?" she whispered, flushing with embarrassment as she heard the wonder choking her voice.

"The unparalleled adaptability of the humanoid body." The Doctor told her proudly, "It's apparent that your human systems have gradually learned to work around, and even support, your cybernetic ones." He put a steadying hand briefly onto her shoulder, "I'm not saying that it would be possible to remove your remaining implants, after all one arm and one eye are synthetic replacements for what's been lost, and your cortical node still regulates your higher brain functions, but the delicate balance of your body has started to finally lean towards the natural rather than the technological."

Seeing that Seven was stunned, as much as she'd ever seen her, by that revelation, B'Elanna stepped closer to speak up. "What about those 'minor lifestyle adjustments' you mentioned?" she asked cautiously.

"Well, you won't be able to dismiss sleep as irrelevant anymore young lady, your body will need it to maintain the status quo now that regeneration is out of the question. A full eight hours a night would be preferable." He didn't notice Seven's face fall, continuing on with the happiness he expected from her, "And you'll need to eat more, you won't have the energy provided from an alcove to supplement a low calorie intake. Your metabolism will run three times as fast as any other…" He stopped mid flow as he finally noticed Seven's disconcerted expression, "What's wrong? Every detail on my database tells me most human women would be delighted by the fact that they could eat a high-calorie, nutritious mind you, diet for the rest of their lives without having to worry too much about…" He had enough tact to clear his throat, "…adverse affects on the waistline."

Seven sighed in exasperation, "I am not most human women." She pointed out tightly, panic beginning to creep into her tone as she considered these implications, "My efficiency will decrease significantly, which will effect my duties adversely…"

The Doctor huffed slightly, bemused that the _good _news he thought he'd been bestowing on this patient was being taken so badly. "I wouldn't worry, from what I've seen of this vessel's inhabitants so far, you've still got a head start." Noting the ungracious frowns of the two women, he changed his focus and tone. "Your implants will still need to be appropriately maintained of course, I just manually completed the charge and re-alignment your alcove would've conducted automatically. Having that done once a day should be enough to keep you in relatively pristine condition."

That piece of additional information shocked Seven out of concerns for her long-term efficiency. "I will need to come here every day?"

"Each treatment shouldn't take more than an hour." The Doctor answered breezily, "I suggest you modify your shifts appropriately."

Seven momentarily gritted her teeth as she slipped down from the biobed, "Yes…that action would appear to be necessary."

B'Elanna leaned towards her, hopefully out of earshot of the hologram. "Faced with that, maybe you can take the transporter apart with a free conscience. Everyone would understand."

Seven shrugged her away, sighing heavily as Lucky returned to her side and she politely addressed the hologram, if she was to develop a tolerance for it, it seemed to expect courtesy. "Thank you for your time…Doctor."

The EMH allowed himself a pleased smile upon hearing the application of what he supposed was his rightful title, it certainly rolled off the tongue a lot easier than 'Emergency Medical Hologram'. "You're welcome of course…" He began with pleasant condescension.

He was unceremoniously interrupted by the piercing bleep of Seven's new comm. badge, B'Elanna had yet to submit to pinning on the little badge of Starfleet authority. "This is Captain Janeway to Seven of Nine, requesting that you please report to my Ready Room."

"Requesting?" B'Elanna echoed incredulously, "That woman doesn't strike me as the type to 'request' anything. Let's call Chakotay…"

"I suspect Chakotay already knows." Seven cut in, even as she inhaled an unnecessarily deep breath before tapping the comm. badge to reply, "I will proceed there immediately."

There was a long pause before Voyager's Captain carefully replied. "Thank you."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I just beta read chapter 6 of 'Shining Star' for NikkiB1973 and it's once again lovely, so read and review that too! :) It's been a great week for the pairing story wise while I was away. **


	59. Lessons in Loyalty

**A/n: Another chapter of this story, another two new C/7 one-shots by cojack for me to recommend! :D 'That Good Night' and 'Shadows of the Raven' are two great additions to cojack's expanding post-Endgame scenario. Read and love them, hopefully the same goes for this chapter. ;) **

Captain Kathryn Janeway felt her hand quake disconcertingly as she lowered it from her comm. badge, a resigned, but still nervous sigh shaking her entire frame as she let her hand fall back onto her desk. Her long fingers had soon clenched over desk console's controls however, as her eyes once again scanned the illuminating data on screen.

It had taken time to learn what was needed, but even in such a surreal situation as she now found herself in she believed in the power of knowledge, and preparedness, so the couple of hours she'd spent trawling Starfleet archives, which thankfully had been downloaded into Voyager's databanks in full had been worth it. Chakotay hadn't made it easy, but a name had been all he'd been willing to give, perhaps even all he knew. Annika Hansen; it had surprised what a relatively common name that was, in the grand scheme of things, although she hadn't been surprised by the fact that the women were concentrated within the Scandinavian Diaspora. Even after narrowing the results by making an educated guess as to 'Seven of Nine's' age, she still had to sort through the identification files of a Malmö kindergarten teacher, a young Minneapolis lawyer, a marine biology graduate in Bergen and tens of high school students stretching from Helsinki in the east to Fresno in the west. Finally, she'd located the most tellingly scant file of them all, a file that apparently hadn't been glanced at by anyone in authority since a brief 'Endangered Child' postscript had been added in mid 2356, almost fifteen years ago.

Details were as thin on the ground as the file itself was slim. A date of birth: 24th of June 2348, in Sahlgrenska University Hospital in Gothenburg, Sweden. Then her parents' names, Magnus and Erin Hansen, both PhDs in exobiology, with a corresponding link to their marriage certificate, her registration at pre-school; she'd been pulled out within a month of term starting, when still barely three, and then seemed to fall off the radar entirely as an individual entity. The toddler's picture was poignantly prominent in the file however, and despite the changes time had scarred the girl with, Janeway had felt a heartbreaking flicker of recognition when she'd seen the clear blue eyes gazing out of a chubby, rosy face flanked with waves of white-blonde hair. Here was her mysterious Borg. Why hadn't anyone clicked the pieces together before now? The elder Hansens', much more extensive, files told part of the story, at least helping her to read between the lines. They'd been mavericks in their field, that much was evident. They'd been feverishly, obsessively, studying the Borg phenomenon years before Starfleet even speculatively admitted that the cyborgs probably did exist. Skim reading their kilobytes of, at the time discredited, research informed Janeway enough to realise that they had been visionary in their field, maybe even geniuses. Many of the 'new' discoveries made about the Borg after the 'non-survivable' crash at Dorvan V, and of course the battle of Wolf 359, had been lying around, ignored and gathering dust, for over two decades as part of the Hansens' back catalogue. The contempt with which they held Starfleet, and vice versa, was palpable as the files reached their end. Apparently, soon after removing little Annika from pre-school, her parents had set off into deep space in their privately owned research vessel, the U.S.S Raven. The last official record of their lives was a snippy report made by the commanding officer of Deep Space Six, the Federation space station right on the frontier border, saying that the couple had refused point-blank to file a flight plan with Starfleet, pointing the Raven in the direction of the Delta Quadrant and promptly disappearing.

The Delta Quadrant. Janeway couldn't help but be struck by the irony of that goal, and wondered if Seven of Nine would be too. The Hansens had willingly left the Alpha Quadrant in search of the Borg, and now their daughter, whose life had obviously led a tortured, convoluted path that was by no means over yet, was going to have to be asked by her to help lead them back in the other direction…

It wasn't that she didn't understand Chakotay's reasoning for wanting his Borg companion on the Bridge as Science Officer, the fact was she understood it too well. He wanted that layer of security her presence there would give him, someone to trust when that quality with his other officers had yet to be developed. Janeway knew she would've wanted the same thing if she were in his shoes, but that didn't change the fact that the last thing the newly amalgamated crew of Voyager needed was there to be a Maquis chain of command entangled with the newly established one. Chakotay would still act the Captain if he had his awe-inspiring ex-Borg pseudo First Officer still standing stoically at his shoulder as she always had. Tuvok's reaction to her recounting of Chakotay's suggestion had made her push these concerns aside in the face of practicality however, his approval of the appointment was implicit as he calmly argued the logic of the suggestion with her, logic she couldn't ignore and which had led her to dig deeper in search of something which would shake the wisdom of the proposal.

The soft swoosh of her Ready Room doors jerked her upright in her chair and out of her thoughts. The silence with which the ex-drone entered was almost disturbing, although she hadn't exactly been led to expect the clattering, thoughtless march of a drone during the past hours of their acquaintance. The fluffed muscle of the dog glued to her side was louder, panting as he padded in, though his owner looked deceptively unruffled as she stopped more than a metre away from her new Captain, halfway between the desk and the doorway. "Captain." She stated simply, not exactly a greeting an etiquette coach would've been proud of.

"Thank you for coming." The Captain replied stiffly, her lips thinning into a slight grimace before she disciplined herself. Just like with any diplomatic meeting, the ice had to be broken with common ground, she'd found it with Chakotay in mutual concern for their respective crews, and for Seven she found herself grasping on to perhaps the most incongruous thing about Seven's arrival, that a dog had accompanied her. Quickly she crumbled the corner of the biscuit that had come with her long ago finished coffee and knelt by the side of her desk, extending the offering out to the dog. "I love dogs." She told Seven honestly, a smile tugging at her lips as the majestic wolf like dog trotted over to her and happily licked the morsel from her hand, tongue lolling. "At home I have Molly, what's his name?" She asked clearly as she straightened and wiped her hands distractedly on her trousers.

"Lucky…" Seven replied slowly, obviously caught completely off guard, eyeing her suspiciously even as the surprise and confusion in her expression gave her striking face an almost painfully young naivety. For a split second Kathryn could see the child she'd been reading about and felt her heart twinge with pity, gradually conceding that Chakotay's protectiveness might be understandable.

"You'll have to tell me how he got that name someday." Janeway said softly.

As if she could sense Janeway's probing sympathy, all of her previous befuddlement was wiped clean from her face. "If you wish Captain." She answered evenly, her voice becoming more pointed as Lucky lay down on the carpet between where she stood and Janeway's desk, as if forming a neutral buffer between the two women. "I presume you did not ask me here just to meet my pet?" There was no malice in the question, but it had an undercurrent of archness, and uncertainty, as if she wouldn't put such an outlandish reason beyond a human.

"No, unfortunately I had other things on my mind." Janeway replied, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to hear that Chakotay and I have come to an agreement, we're combining our two crews in order to work together to get home…back to the Alpha Quadrant." She cleared her throat, she wasn't sure if Seven of Nine considered anywhere 'home' and she felt awkward using the term. "He's agreed to serve as my First Officer, with the rank of Commander."

This time, Seven's reaction was more subtle, almost as if she'd assumed that this would be Chakotay's role or had even expected it, but Janeway was observant enough to see the girl's martinet like stance relax slightly, her blue eyes gleaming with relief and pride even as she reply was carefully staid. "That was a rational decision Captain."

"I'd like to think so." Janeway remarked drily, leaning forward over her desk in an attempt to make sure she met her gaze directly, "What I'm trying to decide now is whether his next suggestion is 'rational'. He put you forward to be Voyager's new Science Officer."

Seven blinked then, her eyebrows, one gold and one silver, knitting closer together. "Intrepid class Starfleet vessels are not generally assigned a Science Officer."

Janeway immediately wondered how the hell she knew that, when the Intrepid class was so new, but recalled the not too comforting thought that Seven's research while she'd been alone on Voyager had probably been extensive. "That's true…" She conceded cautiously, "…but Chakotay was wise enough to point out that on such an…unprecedented mission we have reason to break that convention."

Seven's gaze narrowed slightly, "You would be breaking more than one Starfleet convention by appointing me to the post Captain."

Tell me about it, Janeway muttered tersely to herself, but took a different tact in her real answer, "You don't have just Chakotay's support, but Lieutenant Commander Tuvok's also, he has assured me that you are the most qualified person we have for the position." She met Seven's gaze pointedly, "You're very lucky to be able to consider Tuvok a friend, as I do."

Seven inclined her head, her face taking on the most respectful expression Janeway had yet witnessed from her. "Yes, I owe him a great deal." She responded sincerely, a great deal of weight behind her few words.

Janeway gave a swift nod, "I hope you can also understand the decision that Voyager will be run strictly by Starfleet regulations." She eyed her apprehensively, "Do you think you will be able to learn and abide by them?"

Seven held her hands tighter behind her back as she replied coolly, "As I am sure you are aware Captain, the Collective has assimilated extensive knowledge of Starfleet regulation, and therefore I also know of it. As far as abiding the regulations go, if the crew has reached a consensus that following Starfleet regulations will give structure to our journey back to the Alpha Quadrant, then I am willing to follow them as you see fit."

The statement wasn't exactly an emotive, ringing endorsement, but Janeway was beginning to suspect it all Seven could give, to her at least. "Well…" She began awkwardly, "If you're willing to stick to that commitment, I'm willing to give you a chance." She sighed, and decided to level with her newest officer, "But it will be difficult for you, probably even more difficult than for the other Maquis, because of your past. Some of the Starfleet crew are bound to see you as a double threat…"

"I understand that Captain." Seven broke in, "They are wise to fear the Borg, and as yet I have not sufficiently proven to them that I am no longer a drone, I cannot expect them to be at ease with me. I have faced such…social obstacles before."

"I'm sure you have." Janeway said, unnerved by the thickness creeping into her voice. "I'm truly sorry for what you've been through Annika."

The pretty notes of the name hit Seven like a gun shot. Her jaw locked inside her paling face as she stepped sharply backwards. Lucky whined plaintively and at once returned to her side, his bulk helpfully hiding the fact that her legs were quivering. "Why did you call me that?" she demanded hoarsely, her eyes boring into Janeway like ice picks.

Janeway instantly realised she'd overstepped her mark. She shouldn't have expected her to accept her real name from a stranger's lips when even the Kotays seemed to have been limited to calling her a bastardisation of a Borg designation, a habit so engrained that Chakotay seemed to consider it her only name. "Because it's your real name, your human name." She replied gently, "Didn't the Kotays at least try to find out about your biological family? Do you remember your parents at all?"

"They are drones; I don't require any memory of them." Seven told her curtly through gritted teeth, "As to what the Kotays did or did not tell me, it was irrelevant then and it is still irrelevant now."

Janeway's gaze flickered to her desk console before she made a decision and spun the screen around for Seven to see. "Your remaining family, your aunt, wouldn't consider it irrelevant." She sighed heavily when Seven made no attempt to approach the desk to read from the screen, instead holding herself further back. "You don't have much family left, but your father does have a sister, Irene Hansen. She reported you and your parents missing fifteen years ago, her brother told her to expect him back after five years…and he never did come back with you. You'd been assimilated two years by that point, hadn't you? You were freed by the Kotays eight years after that?"

"Yes." Seven forced out, unable to hold her emotions in entirely as she picked up on a veiled barb against Kolopak and had to leap to his defence. "You are speaking as if Kolopak Kotay, his family and the people held me captive on Dorvan V, kept me in the dark about this aunt you speak of, but that isn't true. They gained nothing from shielding me as they did, I complicated their lives, having a Borg among them comprised their safety!" She defended passionately, "The technology on the planet was not advanced, it cost a great deal of effort for them to discover my identity and I rejected it as irrelevant. Kolopak discovered Irene just after my nineteenth birthday, he encouraged me to seek her out but I refused, I felt safe…and happy where I was." Her voice cracked for a moment as she mentally recalled those fraught days. The panic she'd felt as she'd begged Kolopak not to send her away, the tears she'd shed even as he'd tried to reassure her by telling her that she was an adult now and that her aunt wouldn't control or harm her, but eventually her distress and his ill-health, he'd grown dependent on her by then with Chakotay and Sekaya gone and kept oblivious, had led to him conceding that it was her own choice whether to reconnect with her roots or not. "Within a month, the Cardassians had attacked. Kolopak was dead and I considered the issue over."

The Captain studied her intently, "You never told Chakotay about this…opportunity to go to your family, did you?" She was startled herself by the burst of insight, but she'd surmised enough about their caring relationship that if Chakotay had known, he probably would've sent her to Earth for safekeeping, he hadn't involved his sister or any other members of his family in his Maquis crusade after all.

"No." Seven admitted stonily, her glare cutting.

"I won't tell him if you don't want him to know." Janeway assured her ruefully, still studying her in perplexity. "Why did you join the Maquis Seven? I don't think the Borg would consider revenge a relevant motive."

"They wouldn't." Seven answered icily without a moment's pause, "I didn't either, not particularly. Kolopak was already dead, killing Cardassians or regaining control of Dorvan V would not have reversed that." She exhaled a clipped sigh, "But Chakotay did not see it that way, and I knew that if I assisted him he was more likely to live long enough to let go of revenge." Her face hardened, staring down at Janeway, "We were both naïve, once we were involved with the Maquis we could not disentangle ourselves, and I became as loyal as he was. Our crew became my Collective." Her eyes were utterly unrepentant, challenging. "Captain, I intend to serve this unified crew and you as well as I can while it serves my Collective, but if at one point in the future our interests diverge and I must choose, I will choose Chakotay and the others." She took a deep breath as her expression softened into cool impassivity, "I may have differing standards of loyalty to humans as you see it, but I still possess my own."

Janeway shivered at the warning, but could regard her levelly, even appreciate the honesty of her stance. "I can understand that, but I hope that, in time, Voyager as it is now can be your Collective, Maquis and Starfleet."

Seven's eyes lowered, and for an instant Janeway saw shame in her eyes in the face of such a relatively magnanimous reply. "I hope so too Captain." She murmured, turning to leave.

"Wait Seven…" Janeway's sharp voice held her back, and she gave her a small smile when the girl looked back over her shoulder, "Let me give you some advice. If you're in love with him, then your loyalty is as human as anyone's ever can be."

Seven froze, her blue gaze becoming mistily unreadable even as her face blanched to white. "Captain…" She began warily, but could get no further.

Janeway twitched her lips at her in a kindly, but weary smile. That she couldn't deny it told her all she needed to know about Seven of Nine, for now. "You're dismissed Lieutenant." She leaned back in her chair, drained, as Seven bobbed her head quickly and fled the room in a controlled fashion, Lucky in tow.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D There have been a couple of questions about the fate of the Astrometrics Lab in this story. I've thought about it and decided that Seven just doesn't have the resources to start building one…yet. ;) I'm sure she'll find plenty to do as Science Officer for now. **


	60. And So It Begins

"Computer, replicate one First Officer's uniform." Chakotay instructed stiltedly as he stood expectedly at the mouth of the replicator in his new quarters.

"Please enter appropriate body measurements." The Computer replied evenly, the words booming around the darkened, silent room, causing Chakotay to wince slightly as he hurriedly dialled his clothing size into the control pad. As the replicator obediently buzzed into action, casting an instant of stark, eerie light over him, Chakotay noticed that his hand, still resting tentatively on the control panel, was shaking perceptively. With a stubborn jerk he brought the wayward limb back down to his side, feeling both hands curl into tense fists as his gaze fell on the neatly folded uniform now sitting patiently just inside the replicator.

His first uniform had been made for him by the most famous tailor in San Francisco, 'R. Lowry and Sons: Foremost Supplier of Starfleet Uniforms since the Fleet's Creation'. His father had allowed him to be fitted for the cadet's uniform on his last trip to Earth before he'd settled at the Academy for good. It had been sent by courier all the way to Dorvan V; ready for his first day…he'd been so proud to wear it that first time. That proud ecstasy had hardly diminished when his father had unexpectedly splashed out to have his first real uniform as a commissioned officer get the same treatment. That was destined to be his father's final gift to him, on the same day he saw his son graduate from an institution that was bound to fail their people. Chakotay could still remember, jaded as he now was, all of the emotions he'd once weaved into Starfleet's uniform, in some ways the feeling hit him with more clarity than before, yet when he looked down at this basic, replicated copy, he felt nothing, though it was exactly the same item of clothing. _He _had changed, rather than the uniform itself.

Shunning these unhelpful thoughts aside, he roughly slung the uniform over one arm and walked over to the couch where he laid it out beside his open medicine bundle, its few meagre contents bringing his father's warning back into sharp focus. 'If you take Starfleet's path you may turn back to find your roots gone.' That prophecy had come true when leaving his world had left it open to Cardassian attack. His time with the Maquis had been like grasping at sand, searching for the roots of his life that had been burned away by death and betrayal, and now, on Voyager, he was being asked to straddle both parts of his life. He shook his head, angrily bunching the medicine bundle, barely saved from the Valjean, closed, unable to look at it anymore. He'd made his choice, made it the moment he'd agreed to work with Janeway.

With a heavy, resigned sigh, he began to shrug off the well worn remnants of his Maquis 'uniform' and try his new one on for size. He'd belted the trousers and was about to drag the itchy grey vest on over his chest when the clear chirp of the doorbell gave a singular, brief ring. Giving the vest a hasty last tug, he called out gruffly, "Come in." He froze mid stride towards the doorway when he saw who it was, his unease as to who might confront him now dissipated before the feeling had a chance to fully form. "Uh…wow Seven…"

Seven's eyes, unusually tight with strain at the corners, narrowed as she was met with his stunned stare, and her hands swept down over herself in a self-consciousness gesture. "What?" she forced out in a brittle tone.

Chakotay had to step back to take stock of a sight he'd never really expected to see, despite their circumstances. Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, his former Borg drone, in full Starfleet uniform. He noted with a fond internal smirk that Seven was even more pristinely turned out that their new Captain, the blue epaulets of her uniform balanced perfectly on her shoulders, the seam line down each trouser leg perfectly straight, the jacket fitted neat to her slender waist. The twist bun style he warmly remembered Sekaya clumsily teaching Seven to do in front of the bathroom mirror was as strict with her wavy gold locks as ever. "Nothing…" He gave her an apologetic but watery smile, "You just pull off that uniform a lot better than most." Seven's eyes skimmed the carpet, her stance stiffening as she remained silent, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, "I see you spoke to the Captain today…" He said carefully as his eyes caught sight of the two gold pips pinned to her collar, as stark as two glittering eyes when set against the sombre black fabric.

Seven followed his gaze and held it. "Yes." She confirmed coolly, "I agreed to her conditions and accepted the position she proposed for me."

Chakotay couldn't quite hide his surprise even as his face brightened hopefully, "As Science Officer?"

Seven gave a sharp nod, "As you suggested."

Chakotay winced at her biting tone. "I _suggested _it because I thought that post would suit you, because I thought that having you on the Bridge would be the best thing for the crew." He explained calmly, though a fraction of the exasperation he was experiencing escaped as he added, "Do you want me to go to Janeway and take all that back?" he demanded defensively.

Seven's eyes flashed for an instant, deflecting some of his anger back it him. "That would be irrational and weaken your position. As I assured the Captain, I intend to conduct my role to the best of my ability."

Chakotay breathed out a huffing sigh. "If that's the case, then what's with this passive aggressive vibe you're giving me, huh?"

Seven blanched momentarily, her lips curling in shame as she analysed her behaviour. "I…I just…" She heaved a sigh, unconsciously wrapping her human arm loosely around her waist for comfort as she looked up at him, "I do not know if pushing me into such a position of authority is wise, not only Starfleet but also the Maquis could have difficulty accepting that. It could be a destabilising mistake."

Understanding dawning on him, Chakotay took several soft steps towards her. "Seven, you were already in a 'position of authority' on the Valjean…"

"Only because that crew respected _you_." Seven cut in, "It's different now, the links of comradeship are more tenuous…" She stopped guiltily when Chakotay flinched, "I'm sorry…"

"No, it's true." He confirmed tersely, "What do you think I've been doing all day after coming to an agreement with Janeway? When I tried to explain my reasoning many of them, my old friends, they looked at me as if I'd grown two heads! As if I was suddenly a stranger…" He trailed off, running a stressed hand through his hair as he grabbed her arm with the other, his eyes pleading for support even as he tried to reassure her, "I know I'm asking a lot of you Seven, taking this on. I realise that you're going to have to take a lot of things on the chin while everyone gets used to the new order, but I wouldn't have put you forward if I didn't trust that you'd be able to handle it, and honestly I don't think Captain Janeway would've agreed with me and offered you the post if she didn't think so too."

Seven shifted away from him restlessly as she pulled in another bracing breath of air. "You are probably correct about that, although Captain Kathryn Janeway strikes me as something of a risk taker."

Chakotay smiled briefly, through Seven could see apprehension in his eyes as he spoke, "Maybe that's a quality we need in order to get home."

Seven's arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at the floor. "Perhaps." She conceded cautiously.

Chakotay could see from the way her eyes glazed over, a deep line marking the porcelain skin between her brows, that she was raking over something else in her complex mind. He took a guess, something he'd feared since revealing Seven to Janeway in the first place. "What else did the Captain say to you Seven?"

Seven's jaw clenched even as the rest of her stance remained deceptively unmoved. Only the briefest of glances to his face through her lowered eyelashes told him she'd heard the question. "Why did you tell her about…" Her whispered voice caught, "…Annika Hansen?"

Chakotay cringed in guilt when he saw the pain in her face, a lump rising punishingly in his throat, "Seven, I…"

"You've never had to tell anyone that to explain my existence. Not Tom, not B'Elanna, not Tuvok…not Seska…" Her throat constricted over that last name and regarded him in doubtful horror, the expression only receding when Chakotay squeezed her arm compassionately to ease that fear at least. "Why her?"

"She…she caught me off guard…" Chakotay explained desperately, "I know it was private, but…" He sighed brokenly, "I didn't really expect her to pry, not right now when we've got so much else to deal with…"

Seven stepped away from him and further into the darkened room. "She was thorough, I suppose that's a good quality in a Captain." She conceded ruefully, "I do not blame her. I am an unknown entity to her."

"But still, I asked her…" Chakotay paused, heart hammering guiltily, as he tried to recall every nuance of his conversation with Janeway, "…or I at least implied that she should leave you alone outside of ship's business." He swallowed angrily, "She had no right to pry like that. I told her I trusted you and that should've been enough." He closed the gap between them again, gripping her shoulder as he came up behind her and giving it an empathic squeeze. "What did she tell you that's bothering you so much? We can talk about it…"

Seven's face flushed and her shoulder jerked out of his grip, her arms once again coiling round to hug herself as she cut him off hotly, "Now who's prying Chakotay?"

Stung, Chakotay blinked at her uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, as if she'd slapped him. "Okay." He muttered slowly, backing down hurriedly as he realised his well-intentioned words had obviously trampled on a _very _raw nerve. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come across like that."

Seven's pale, taut face wavered as she heard his sincerity, and she immediately had a stern mental word with herself, trying to pull it back together. "I know." She mumbled, adapting her more usual militaristic posture even as she rubbed her human hand over her face, turning away from him as she did so. "I'm just…" She started to say many words: 'exhausted', 'overwhelmed', 'confused', but couldn't quite bring herself to admit them when she could clearly see more powerful versions of the same emotions marring Chakotay's handsome face. Instead, she let her eyes scan the room a gasp of surprise leaving her lips when her gaze found something discarded by his, as yet unworn, uniform jacket. "You have your medicine bundle?"

Chakotay's expression became distinctly sheepish as he approached the sofa on the arm of which the bundle lay. "Yeah, I grabbed it when I got Lucky out of my quarters on the Valjean for transport and gave it to Chell to keep safe on a whim." He sighed to himself as he toyed with the small amber pendant that lay in the centre of the bundle, it had been his mother's, worn on the day she'd died. "I guess I must've had a premonition we wouldn't go back to the Valjean."

Normally Seven would've lightly reminded him of the fact that premonitions were entirely unproven in humans, they'd had similar conversations before, but right now she regarded him with thoughtful concern. "Your father would be glad of such foresight."

"I don't think he'd be so pleased with the fact that I haven't actually used it in…years." Chakotay replied sadly before snatching up one of the other objects from the bundle, a tiny data chip. "This is what I need right now, I put family photos on it. I'm going to download some for in here, since this is going to be home for a while. Do you want to pick a few for your quarters?"

Seven's eyes shot to his, to the chip and back again, gratitude glimmering in her eyes. "I'd like that." She murmured honestly.

Chakotay had already pre-empted her answer and plugged the chip into his computer console. He grinned in relief when the much loved nostalgic images began to pop up on the screen. "Take your pick."

Seven shyly approached the console, quickly reeling through the private pictures which included Chakotay's mother or any other family portraits taken before her arrival on Dorvan V. Finally, she found an acceptable image. "I'll take this one." She pronounced.

Chakotay frowned as he studied the picture. It was one taken, just after his Academy graduation ceremony, of himself, Sekaya and their dad all happy smiles. He could see a hint of a smile on Seven's lips, she'd been even more reserved back then, but since they'd been in a public place her necessary hood obscured most of her face. "I can hardly see you in that one." He scoffed, "Choose one that's nice of all four of us."

"I don't need to see myself in the photograph." Seven replied dismissively.

"Come on Seven…" He wheedled, "Don't sell yourself short about this, there are clearer pictures of you here." He promptly selected the one he was looking for. The picture had been taken early on the night of his going away party during Seven's first summer on Dorvan, before his mood had soured.

Seven's head lowered, a blush colouring her cheeks as the sight of her sixteen year old self naively parading in the sky-blue crinoline halter dress brought memories rushing back. "I can't believe you kept a copy of that photograph…"

"It's my favourite." Chakotay admitted wryly, "I always get a kick out of seeing Sekaya in those heels that Dad hated, hanging onto you to stay upright…"

"She quickly moved onto Ryac for assistance in that department." Seven commented drily, exchanging a smirk with Chakotay. "And I look even more ridiculous…"

Chakotay snapped his head to the side to face her, his dark gaze liquid and piercing. "You're beautiful." He countered with a firm conviction that made even his cheeks warm as he heard it, his mind flashing involuntarily to that long ago evening. He sighed heavily as he was again trapped in the quagmire of the past. "Things were simple for us back then…"

"Simple?" Seven echoed, "You had a fugitive Borg drone in your midst then as now."

Chakotay rolled his eyes even as he gave a strained chuckle. "Alright, _simpler_, by our standards."

Seven allowed herself a conceding smile, "I concur." She murmured regretfully before moving away from the console to see his new uniform. "You will need more than one uniform Chakotay." She pointed out questioningly.

"I thought I'd better try it on for size first." Chakotay explained defensively, defusing her talent for stating the obvious.

"You haven't replicated your command insignia either." Seven chastised him softly, sweeping over to the replicator. "Computer, replicate the appropriate rank insignia for a Starfleet Commander."

Chakotay sighed as he watched her scoop three of the ubiquitous gold pips into her hand as soon as they materialised, his chest tightening painfully. "Commander…" He muttered, "That's a turn up for the books." He half expected Seven to query the idiom, but she didn't even twitch an eyebrow, disturbingly fixated on the specks of gold in the silvery webbing of her cybernetic hand. "Seven?" he prodded cautiously.

Seven blinked once, heavily. "I remember when you discarded your Lieutenant pips…"

Chakotay grimaced as his stomach twisted, the memory of the violent catharsis he'd felt when those pips had disappeared among the ash that had once been his home, his _father_, hitting him as if he'd never left that wasteland. "So do I." He ground out.

Seven continued as if he hadn't spoken, "I salvaged them. I thought then that there would be a day when you could regret losing them, so I kept them for you." She blinked again, the thoughtful mist drifting from her eyes, "They were on the Valjean…" Her fist closed around the new pips, "I suppose these will have to suffice."

The lump in Chakotay's throat refused to ease as his suddenly wet eyes blurred his image of her in front of him. He couldn't articulate what his response might've been if she had given him those pips back, even as it was his feelings were conflicted. Abruptly he snatched up his uniform jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders. "Pin them on me?" he requested softly.

Seven met his gaze for a moment before replying with a muted nod. "Of course."

Chakotay smiled indulgently over her head as she automatically tugged the stiff fabric of the jacket straight. "Did you sort out a regeneration unit with B'Elanna's help?" he asked suddenly.

Seven purposefully kept her head bent, taking longer than strictly necessary to button his jacket for him. "No, it was impossible to find components…" She replied, adding hurriedly when she felt his horrified eyes bore into the top of her head, "But I consulted the holographic Doctor and he believes I am no longer as reliant on my implants as I once was, with adequate nutrition and sleep, as well as daily maintenance with him, I should remain perfectly functional."

Chakotay's hands suddenly dwarfed hers, putting her busywork with his buttons to a halt as he clutched them so hard that it almost hurt. "You're sure?" he asked sharply, taking a deep breath and easing his hold on her hands slightly when she shot him an impatient frown in response. "And you're okay with those changes?" he asked in a gentler tone.

Seven's eyes widened a little in surprise. "It will be a different level of efficiency than I am accustomed to." She answered eventually.

"Efficiency isn't everything Seven." Chakotay reminded her softly, his lips forming a teasing smile. "Maybe you'll finally appreciate the value of a good lie in, you missed out on that as a teenager, even when living with us." He saw the pain of the stab of nostalgia that twisted in his chest also flicker across her face and sighed, lowering her hands from his chest so that their entwined hands lay between them, "I can come back to your quarters tonight, or you can stay here. It's still early days here for you to be alone…"

Seven firmly slid her hands out of his and held them stubbornly behind her back. "Chakotay, I am going to have to adapt properly to being alone at some point!" She told him harshly, angry both at herself for being afraid of that fact and at him for coddling her. It would do neither of them any good for her to be even more reliant on him than she already was. Their current circumstances only put that reality into clearer focus, told her to pull back.

Chakotay sighed as he read the struggle on her face, "How far can anyone adapt to being alone?" he replied under his breath as he tugged at the collar under his chin, feeling suffocated.

Seven took this as her cue to come forward with the pips, her quick breaths tickling his neck as she pinned them on in a line as straight as a ruler. "There." She mumbled, allowing satisfaction to seep into her tone.

Chakotay glanced down at her handiwork, lips quirking. "Perfect." He agreed in a whisper, his arms circling the small of her back as she relaxed at the word, and he leaned forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek that lingered with his words, "Thank you Seven." A shiver ran up his back as he felt her warm breath stop with a hitch at the touch of his lips on her skin, and he realised with a sinking feeling that he'd crossed one of those boundaries into humanity Seven avoided, she was still uncomfortable with any intimacy. He straightened quickly, his hands ghosting over the curve of her hips as he let her go but still gazed down at her. "Everything's going to be okay Seven, we'll make it okay." His words had a desperate edge even to his ears, trying to convince himself as much as her.

Seven could only nod leadenly as she made one large step back towards the door, hoping a physical gap between them would end the battle between her emotions, a battle that couldn't continue if they were to 'make it okay' on Voyager. The events of the day, no even since they'd arrived in the Delta Quadrant, had made a mockery of her relationship with him. It had humiliated her to be reminded of the futility of her hopes, of yes her love for him, even as necessity solidified his superiority over her, brought home impossibilities with painful force. She felt her impassive mask slip over her features with merciful, accepting ease. "Goodnight Commander."

Chakotay felt something hot flare in his chest upon hearing that impersonal rank flow so easily from her cool lips. It rubbed salt in the wound that had been growing all day, as his friends who'd served under him distanced themselves and the Starfleet officers stared at him resentfully without actually seeing him or hearing what he was saying. Seven decades of being addressed as 'Commander' suddenly stretched out before him like a gaping void, his real name and identity forgotten by all. "Yes, _Lieutenant_." He retorted sarcastically, hurt flowing from his mouth as venom. Seven stiffened like a tree being hit with a gale force wind, her face losing its impassivity to be replaced with a mournful resignation which made him feel sick, as if she were confirming his fears. "Is this what it's going to be like now?" he forced out hoarsely, "'Yes, Commander' and 'No, Commander'?"

"I…" Seven forced her lips together, she'd really expected him to accept her formality with relief, but the betrayal in his eyes as he stared down at her pleadingly was making it hard to breathe, and she could feel her eyes beginning to blink rapidly as her stoic façade began to crumble. Instinctively, she reached back for the door panel to unlock the door and escape.

Chakotay twisted to grasp her wrist as he strode forward, gulping with shock and guilt as he saw the eerie glint of tears scarring Seven's lovely, anguished face. "I'm sorry…" He murmured brokenly as the fingers of his free hand tentatively moved to rub the tears away.

Neither of them would ever clearly recall what precipitated the next string of events. Perhaps Chakotay pulled her back towards him and away from the door, or Seven gave in and came back to him on her own, but soon his hand had slid down her face to cup her hip and hold her to him as their lips met tenderly. The kiss only lasted a matter of heartbeats before they parted like two opposing magnets. However, it was enough to flip some sort of subliminal switch in their minds, as soon as their faces had parted enough to glimpse the other's eyes their lips locked together once more, certain now. The soft and incidental in the first kiss became drawn out intensity in this one as heated emotions and undiluted physical instinct kicked in, but their bodies betrayed them with a need for air within seconds.

Chakotay was hardly aware of his chest heaving as the kiss broke and he found himself staring down at Seven, her eyes so huge he could hardly make out the rim of her vivid blue irises as he met her vague gaze, her mouth a shock of red against her ghostly complexion. He clutched her to him without real consideration, his only guide an inner knowledge telling him that if he didn't she'd either swoon in his arms or flee from them. His breathless gasps ruffled her hair as he locked her against him with his arms around her back, his chin on her quaking shoulder. "Stay here…we really do need to talk now honey…" Seven's broken, overwrought sobs into the crook of his neck were her only reply.

**A/n: Please review. :) I owe a big thank you to NikkiB1973 for beta-reading this chapter for me. Her new C/7 one-shot 'Seeking Seven of Nine' is a lovely read, so review that too. :)**


	61. Knowing

**A/n: Thanks so much to NikkiB1973 for beta-reading this chapter for me, I trust her judgement completely where romantic writing is concerned and without her reassurance this chapter wouldn't have been posted.**

"Seven…" Chakotay choked out in a breathless, pleading whisper. Hearing her strained, gulping sobs stabbed at something vital inside him. His heart that had been thudding in his chest and through his lips just moments before sat wallowing in his stomach, the weakness of fear bleeding into his legs until he wasn't sure if it was still him holding Seven upright or whether their positions had reversed. "Shh…Shh…" He found himself cooing, although he belatedly realised that Seven had only vocalised her sobs for a matter of seconds. It might've been easier if she'd been freely, openly weeping, he could soothe that in some way, but she was fighting herself now. All he could hear was his own breathing, ricocheting painfully through his ears as she shuddered and quaked in his arms. She seemed so uncertain that it was almost like she was a mirage shimmering in and out of existence, by turns proving and then doubting what had happened between them less than a minute before. Slowly, tentatively, with words and platitudes beyond him, Chakotay turned his head inwards where her neck was bowed to hide her face in his shoulder and pressed his lips lightly to her throat, just above where the high collar of her uniform ended. If such a kiss had been laid on her cheek or the back of her hand it might have been considered chaste, a goodbye even, but there it was both a promise of and a plea for intimacy.

Seven shivered at the touch, straightening as if an electric shock had revived her limp, helpless body, a gasp of air exploding into her lungs as she jerked away from him like a puppet on a string. Her gaze stayed level with his chin even as his hands moved to grip her shoulders, urging her head up, but her eyes were cruelly riveted on the three pips on his collar which may as well have been three mythical golden bullets for what they represented to her.

Chakotay watched as her eyes refused to focus on him, again fixated on the three gold pips she'd attached so much significance to by memory. She remained as silent as the dead, but whatever thoughts she'd buried away from him became visible as tears continued to roll unbroken down her ashen cheeks, that first flush of passion she'd shared with him now burned away. "Hey." He stated, a little too sharply, to bring her back, a relieved smile lifting his face when her eyes widened at the word and flicked to his. He touched her face to hold her gaze, keep her with him, his thumbs firmly rubbing to erase the tear tracks. Her hands half rose up to push his away but soon fell ineffectually back to her sides. Instead her gaze solidified, the question in it no longer misted by tears.

"What are we doing?" She asked, her lips barely moving so that, to Chakotay, her face felt reassuringly steady in his hands. Surprise barely occurred to her when his answer was to pull her face towards his and consciously, deliberately, kiss her. In the back of her mind, she knew that was what she'd been asking for, confirmation. However, whatever controlled thought process had initiated the kiss in either his mind or hers soon abandoned them as passion and desire soon took on their sharper edges of desperation and need. Tasting the salt of Seven's tears pushed Chakotay to the point of having to convince her, dragging her flush to him almost roughly as she clutched at him as she would a cliff-edge, her nails digging into the back of his neck and embedding themselves into his hair. Pleasure was verging on pain physically as well as emotionally before the signal of Chakotay's low timbre groan threw Seven's mind free of the tornado that was this embrace. She had to stumble back from him to gain any perspective at all, staring up at him in horror as if faced with the destruction of all she knew, which in a way she was. "No…No, we…I…" She gulped hard as he closed the gap between them again, "We're committed to our roles here! You're First Officer and I'm…"

Chakotay's reaction to that was understandable, even if the growling tone he adopted was unwise, his brain affected by loss of blood. "Seven, we've only been officers for a few _hours_…" He retorted in frustration, reaching out to hold her and sighing helplessly when she flinched away, "That doesn't matter when I've had you for years…" He pleaded, still struggling to grasp why she was resisting him. In that moment his body was like an engine which had been sitting on idle for years before suddenly being unleashed with a power which he couldn't fully control; with Seven's withdrawal he was rapidly veering off the road altogether, ready to explode. The fear and incomprehension he saw vividly darkening her pale and still tear-stained face acted like a bucket of icy water washing over him and he took several ragged but deep breaths as he looked down at her. "Listen to me, we haven't done anything wrong…"

Seven's eyes fluttered closed for an instant, although his eyes had softened back to something resembling normality from the dark intensity of smouldering coal which had enflamed and frightened her all at once, she was still reluctant to look at him as she spoke. "Perhaps not if we were in a less…complex situation…" Her voice cracked; it wasn't as if she hadn't fantasised about Chakotay kissing her, but the idea had been as indistinct as it was tempting. The pleasure in the vision always faded as her relentlessly practical side kicked in, not only telling her how unlikely it was but how intimacy would ruin the basis on which it stood, the friendship she was dependent on. Occasionally she'd thought of them being able to leave the Maquis and settle down anonymously on some quiet planet, as he had once promised her, but reality had killed that dream, the situation they found themselves on Voyager served as its gravestone. On darker days, when she and Chakotay had been estranged after the incident at Terok Din, she'd even tried to force closure on the wound by instead forcing the image of Chakotay married to someone else, a likely circumstance which would rightly push her away. Even her sunniest, most hopeful dreams had never given her guidance on what she would say, how they would act, if intimacy came to pass, and now that she was faced with, what in her mind had been the most unlikely scenario, she felt trapped. "It's impossible now!" She choked out, feeling her heart twist in her chest as Chakotay blinked at her without understanding, reaching out for her like a parent trying to reason with a distraught child, but she again pulled back. "You're…You're just confused. In this strange situation you're seeking comfort from me like always and then you'll just…go…" She halted stutteringly, stunned herself by these words flowing from her mouth unbidden and just how resentful they sounded.

Chakotay dropped back from her momentarily, shaking as if she really had given him the punch to the gut these words represented. The resentment and pain in her voice hurt of course, but what she'd said had a ring of truth in it that brought the understanding he'd been grasping for blindly. How long had he been taking advantage of Seven? Could he really have been so dense as to not see the feelings that now dominated his brain and were reflected even on her angry face? Thinking back to the night before, when he'd so fiercely convinced himself that Seven _needed_ his company, rather than just admitting that he wanted to unburden himself to her, he realised just how long he'd been dumping his emotional baggage on her and fretting over hers. Why _had _he reacted so strongly, so ungraciously, panicked so much when Seven had come to help him from the Ocampan tunnels? He'd known at the time that many on the ship had raised their eyebrows at that, but he'd ignored them, and still, even now, couldn't quite bring himself to regret his overreaction, or any he'd ever had about Seven's safety. Letting her accusation roll over him, seeing the outburst for what it was, the lashing out of a cornered ex-drone, he didn't hesitate to go to her again. "Okay, I'll admit that we're in a situation we never expected…" He began softly, plunging his gaze into the blue depths of hers, "…and I know that I _do _rely on you more than anyone else, and you on me I think…" He breathed a gentle sigh as he again cupped her face, his fingers brushing the cool metal of the starburst implant under her ear, "…but doesn't that tell you something about us?"

Seven swallowed hard as she heard the imploring certainty in the question, the hypothetical nature of it, but she found herself wishing he wasn't as certain, it would make her fear easier to admit without hurting him. "I…know…" She almost included a 'don't' in that statement but couldn't quite bring herself to lie like that, "But the crew…" As if on cue, just as Chakotay began to shake his head in despairing denial, they heard a load ruckus and a few raised voices rolling past the quarters and down the corridor.

Chakotay could heard hear little more than a couple of drunken comments, but could see from Seven's stricken face as she looked over his shoulder to the tightly closed door that she could hear whatever they were ranting about in detail. "Damn it…" He cursed under his breath, wishing he'd had the foresight to suggest to the Captain that they block the replication of synthehol for a few days until things settled down into a new status quo, the last thing this ship needed was a few crewmembers' attempts to drown their sorrows stirring tensions, particularly when those tensions unsettled Seven so much. "They're drunk Seven, whatever they're saying out there doesn't matter, things will calm down and everyone will accept that we're…" He trailed off, deciding on some stronger measures as Seven tried to shy towards the door, pinning her arms to her sides as he held her in place and looking her straight in the eyes. "You're panicking Seven, I know you, remember?" His mouth twitched upwards as her lips pursed, unable to deny that he'd hit the nail on the head. "We need to talk, just like I said before…" He stopped as he saw her bow her head, shrinking in on herself as she tended to do when overwhelmed. From standing almost level with him on her heels, she suddenly looked small and vulnerable and his confidence began to crumble, his voice breaking, "_Please_."

Seven continued to look over his shoulder towards the door, her heart constricting along with his throat as he forced out that earnest word that, for an instant, made her concerns irrelevant. As she gently shrugged over his hold with the Borg strength she rarely used on him, the panic and anguish that flashed across his face, he obviously expected her to walk out, made her decision. With one sharp spin she'd turned her back on him and walked into his new bedroom, her controlled stance slipping away when the door closed behind her without Chakotay following. Her steps became stumbling as she moved away from the door that now separated them, and she blindly found the far end of the bed just before her legs gave way entirely. Sitting there, hearing Chakotay's belated strides to the bedroom door, filled her with an odd feeling of déjà vu, had it really been less than twenty four hours ago where a similar scene between them had played out in her quarters, when she'd longed for him to talk to her?

Chakotay rushed in at first, as if afraid the doors would close in on him, but when he saw Seven he froze to one spot, tearing at his uniform jacket once again began to suffocate him and threw it violently into a crumpled heap in the corner after finally freeing himself with a sigh of relief. Out of the corner of his eye however, he saw all the colour drain out of Seven's face as he stood in front of her in just his trousers and vest, a deer in the headlights expression coming over her as she unconsciously shifted to an even more precarious position on the edge of the bed. "Seven, I'm not going to do anything…" He muttered tightly, "Just talk." For a sickening moment he wondered if he'd been wrong to believe in the end that the Cardassian on Terok Din hadn't done anything to her, but he tried his best to dismiss that thought, since it now bothered him more than ever.

Seven flushed in embarrassment and guilt as he watched her unflinchingly even while giving her that reassurance, though his gaze gleamed in the dim light like that of a wounded animal. She didn't want to admit to herself that his assumption about her reaction to him wasn't far from the mark, and pushed her false certainty by sliding up the bed as she regarded him remorsefully, "I know that." She mumbled before flopping back awkwardly to lie on the bed.

"Well then…" Chakotay started, the creak of the bed as he sat down on the end near Seven's feet provided a welcome interruption, "…let's talk." He ran a stressed hand through his hair as he glanced over his shoulder at her, lying on the bed as if it were another form of alcove, legs locked together and arms nailed to her sides. It was unnerving to see her so shut down like that and he had to draw strength from somewhere deep inside to be able to speak at all, the question that came out was unexpected, "How long have you known? I mean, how long have you felt…" His will to speak gave out.

The spotlights on above Seven's head blurred as the moist weight of tears pressed on her eyes, but her sense of dignity and pride gave her a reluctance to speak, humans would frown on her dependent, 'pining' behaviour, and besides, she wasn't even sure if she _could _answer him sufficiently, feelings were unquantifiable. "Isn't that irrelevant now?" she finally asked quietly.

Chakotay was irked, though not surprised, by her lapsing into her habit of answering a question with a question. "It's relevant to _me_." He informed her thickly, again raking through and tugging at his hair in frustration. He'd repeated the nervous tick so often in the last few moments that even his close cropped hair was beginning to stick out at all angles. At any other time Seven would've found the sight endearing and amusing, would've perhaps eventually provided something for his hands to do while they talked, but now she just listened in silence as he continued, "God, I know I've been an idiot…blind even, but you…"

There was a long pause, one Chakotay wasn't sure if he wanted to be filled with assurance that he hadn't been an idiot, or a tension relieving laugh as she confirmed that he had been. Neither was forthcoming, and her cautious reply surprised him when it finally came. "I wasn't fully aware…not for years, Lo…someone told me once my feelings were evident, but I never…" Seven took a deep breath, deciding to start over, "Every time you were hurt, or in danger, or even away from me my feelings would be clarified, but…"

"But what?" Chakotay broke in unintentionally, turning on the bed to look down at her properly, curtailing the volume of his voice when he saw her eyes close tiredly, "Why didn't you tell me? We could've avoided all this…" he whispered sorrowfully, his hands clenching around the duvet.

"Really?" Seven choked out, "Can you honestly tell me that it wouldn't have been futile Chakotay? Your life was the Maquis, you were consumed by it…" She inhaled sharply, "Even if I were more appropriate for you, would you have appreciated the distraction?"

Chakotay was struck by how matter-of-factly she stated this, as far as could be from the tearful and overwrought responses of earlier. "You're my best friend, how much more _appropriate _could you be?" He forced out hoarsely, sinking back onto the bed beside her, "You know how messed up I was back then, but didn't you think I'd noticed that you've always been with me through that?" He turned onto his side, stretching out for her plaintively as something inside him broke. "Let me hold you Seven, please…" He hardly registered her shaky nod as she curled onto her side, wrapping his arms lightly around her waist as he spooned up behind her, pressing his forehead into her back as he tried to regroup, "You've been my best friend, my confidante, when I needed you, let me love you now that I've seen it…" He stopped when he felt her start to quiver and jolt in his arms again, sobs racking her painfully. "What's wrong? I know I've hurt you, but…"

"You've never intentionally hurt me…" Seven corrected through her sobs, "You're my closest friend and I…I cannot lose that…" She squeezed her eyes shut in denial as he cuddled her closer in response, "I do…I do not think I could function if you were not my friend…" She gulped hard, coiling in on the hands he had tight around her, "I was…I _am_ willing to forsake a _relationship_ to avoid losing you completely…" She broke down entirely then, unable to stop herself from weeping as she never had in her life.

"Seven…Seven…" Chakotay murmured, his tone remarkably calm now as he soothed her, "You're _not _going to lose me, ever." He placed his chin resolutely on her shoulder, turning slightly to be able to kiss her face, "Even…Even if we don't stay _together_, and I think we will, I'm always going to be your friend." He paused for a moment, pulling back from her reluctantly to prove this point went beyond passion, "You're never going to be alone as long as I'm alive Seven."

One last, guttural sob, of relief rather than fear, left Seven as he said that and she finally turned in his arms to face him, burying her face guiltily into his chest. "I was afraid Chakotay, that's the only real reason I didn't tell you, I'm sorry…."

"I know, that's okay…" Chakotay breathed into her hair, "I was scared too…"

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! You have all been waiting for this after all, right? I found a C/7 last night called 'Field Trip' by withah and it really brightened my day after slaving over this. How could a story revolving around Chakotay recruiting Seven to join him on an educational away mission with Icheb and Naomi not make me happy? lol. ;) **


	62. Prototypes and Pioneers

**A/n: Thanks again to my beta NikkiB1973 for helping me navigate this romantic minefield of a story. :)**

As her outpouring of helpless tears slowed to a quiet, relieved trickle, Seven's sense of shame and self-discipline reasserted itself and she turned away from Chakotay's chest, twisting back onto her side with her back to him to compose herself. Chakotay responded by again spooning up behind her, coiling one arm around her waist and placing the other hand securely on her hip to anchor her to him. This wordless reassurance, stronger and more obstinate than any plea he could've voiced to calm her, finally pushed Seven over the line she needed to cross to be able to accept and relax in his arms. Even as she consciously snuggled into him however, warmth and comfort seeping into the physical and emotional barriers she'd built around herself over the years of tumult and trauma, she couldn't help comparing the present to this morning, when she'd so stiffly extricated herself from him, his sleeping mind apparently more aware of their closeness than either of them. It was stunning how much could change in less than twenty four hours, their exile in the Delta Quadrant, though hardly any longer, had already proven that irrefutably. Still, as her enhanced vision pierced the soothing veil of darkness to reveal their impersonal, standardised surroundings and she then looked down at the uniform she wore, it became all the clearer that certain things _weren't _going to change anytime soon.

Chakotay's breathing behind her was deep and steady, although not quite yet carrying him into sleep. When she put her hand over the one he had clasped protectively over her abdomen he quickly became alert and she took the chance to speak before her willpower failed her sense of reality. "Do you remember what I told you last night Chakotay?"

"I'm not about to forget it." He replied carefully after a short sigh. Despite his considered tone, Seven had felt his muscles tensing and knew he wasn't sure of where she was going with this, and even less sure that he'd like it. "Why?"

"I am fearf…" Seven took a deep breath as she rephrased, "…apprehensive that the shift in our relationship will compromise your agreement with Captain Janeway." She explained, her voice losing its usual cut glass clarity as she rushed the words.

Chakotay gently pulled her onto her back so that he could at least see her face as he felt his own brows furrow with frustration which he strained to keep out of his response, "Seven, we talked about this…" He began, unable despite his efforts to hide the desperation now clawing at him.

Seven shook her head, causing her pillow to rustle as she looked over at him. "No, we did not." She stated stubbornly, her face softening as his mouth fell open in confusion and disbelief. Bringing her human hand up to his chin, letting her fingers run over the thin layer of dark stubble, she smiled at him ruefully, "We talked about our feelings…" She sighed heavily as she forced her hand to drop away back onto the bed, "…not the practicalities."

Chakotay sucked in a breath of air, trying to remain light-hearted after everything than had gone before between them, "Feelings and _practicalities _don't always mix Seven, and nor should they." He remarked wryly as he leaned into her, almost cajolingly.

Seven closed her eyes for a moment as stress tightened its noose around her again. "If you did remember what I said last night, then you would understand what I am saying now." She said tersely, "This crew must be a well functioning unit if we are to survive. We have already disrupted that."

"How?" Chakotay pressed, "I think we'll _function_ better if we're both happy."

Seven winced at his hurt tone; this conversation wasn't progressing as she would've wished. "Even if I were not Borg, Starfleet officers are not permitted to become involved with subordinates."

Chakotay was about to repeat his previous plea that he'd only been her First Officer for a matter of hours, but bit it back as he recalled how that argument had failed to dent her shields before. He should've known better than to think she'd drop the issue altogether after the depth of their love was revealed. "No, it's not normally permitted, but Voyager isn't in 'normal' circumstances." He pointed out patiently, "This crew isn't just going to serve on this ship, we're going to have to _live _on it." He swallowed as he turned his head to look her straight in the eye, "I know that Captain Janeway gives the impression of being…wedded to the rulebook, she's like you that way…" That comment earned him a tight smirk, "…but she's not an idiot either. Yes, we'll have to find a way to maintain the chain of command while forming relationships, but that's definitely possible."

"It appears then that I will need to be a prototype once again." Seven murmured tiredly.

Chakotay tried to put a more positive spin on their situation than that, "How about we think of ourselves as…pioneers?" He suggested, attempting a smile at the prospect, "The crew's future couples will thank us for being the first in the long run." He sighed, his levity fading, "Look Seven, you told me that, in the worst case scenario, we could be out here for seventy five years; I don't want the ranks we had to barter to get to stand between us until we're in our nineties!"

Seven blanched, the scenario he presented striking her like a blunt blow to the head. "I could not live like that…not now." She gulped hard, "But the crew might not be able to live with us, how can they follow a man who is…" She trailed off momentarily, refusing to look him directly in the eye as her voice dropped to a whisper, "…in love with a Borg drone? How can the Captain, who has been instructed to fight the Collective, have such a couple as officers?"

"This is the same Captain who just gave you an officers' post of her own freewill, whether I suggested it initially or not." Chakotay replied, his tone as forceful as his caressing hand on her face was gentle, "_You _see yourself as Borg much more than anyone else does Seven, it's time to let that go."

Seven grasped his wrist to stop his distracting touch, "It isn't about my self-esteem Chakotay…" She began to argue, through the crack in her voice belied that statement. "You have to gain the respect of the Starfleet crew…"

"And I will." Chakotay interrupted sharply, "But through my actions on duty and nothing else." Perhaps realising that sounded rather militant, he met her eyes levelly, "Our personal lives are no one else's business, whether on the Valjean or on Voyager."

"I do not doubt that your leadership skills will become clear." Seven assured him quickly, "But there will be…prejudiced eyes on us. I believe an appropriate human idiom for us situation would be that it's going to be 'like living in a fishbowl'."

Chakotay chuckled wryly, her expression while repeating the saying had been endearingly uncertain, even dubious, as if she felt she were echoing some magical incantation. "You're right about that." He agreed, "We're in for a lot honey, but I don't think it would've been much different if we'd kept to our old status quo, it's probably less suspicious for the doubters if we're together rather than if we just kept claiming friendship…"

"It makes me appear more plausibly human?" Seven remarked, again in a tone of rueful resignation.

Chakotay paused awkwardly, the pragmatic comment catching him off-guard. For her sake, he wanted to deny it totally, but he knew she'd see through any platitudes he tried to weave to cover up the festering wounds of other people's prejudices from her sight. "Look at it this way, if I had been less self-absorbed…" He saw her open her mouth to absolve him of that, but, although grateful, put his fingers briefly to her lips in order to finish, "If I'd been a braver man and admitted my feelings long ago, or even just kissed you when I returned from the array to find you alive…" He swallowed hard, regret and guilt consuming him for a moment, "We…we would've been together when we combined the crews…"

Seven shifted uncomfortably, a blush tingeing her cheeks, "But we were not." She reminded him in a small voice.

"But if we had been the Captain and the others would've just had to deal with that from the get go and they're going to have to deal with it now." He told her with powerful, righteous conviction that began to dip as Seven regarded him silently, "You understand what I'm saying don't you?" He gave her a lingering, pleading kiss on the side of her face, not quite confident enough to press it to her lips, "I told you that I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to let this…this predicament rip us apart now…"

Seven stopped him mid way through his determined flow by turning and kissing him, cautiously but tenderly, on the lips. "I know." She whispered warmly, "I trust you."

Chakotay responded by gripping her chin to pull her into a deeper kiss, long and sweet. When they pulled back, it was as if the tension had ebbed out of them and they lay like that for a few moments in contented silence before Chakotay spoke again as he studied her relaxed face, spellbound by the attraction he held for her. "Are you going to tell me who it was who helped you realise how you felt about me?" he asked teasingly.

Seven's eyes shot up, amusement glittering in her eyes for an instant since she could read his anticipation for another kiss clearly in his dark eyes and the way his tongue traced impatiently over his lips. "You really want to ask me about that _now_?" she asked incredulously, her face warming up as she realised how low, _seductive_, her own voice sounded.

Chakotay shrugged, the beginnings of laughter crinkling his face. "A guy's allowed to be curious, right?"

"I suppose." Seven conceded warily, pressing her face further into the pillow as she became serious and thoughtful once more. "It was Logan Pullman." She answered quietly.

"Lo…" Chakotay started, the air blowing out of his sails as if she'd kicked him in the stomach, "Logan Pullman? What reason could you possibly have for talking about us with _him_?" he demanded in an irate voice that was strangled by the green eyed monster of jealousy.

Seven didn't hesitate to free herself from his suddenly too tight grip, her eyes narrowing. "You shouldn't speak of him in that way, he's my friend and yours and we don't know if he is still alive." She remonstrated with him sharply, releasing a knowing sigh when Chakotay's features fell shamefacedly as her reprimand hit home, through his body still bristled with tension. "He pursued me somewhat, but from my lack of response he was able to gather that my feelings lay elsewhere." She told him softly as she propped herself up on her elbow to look down into his eyes, "He realised before I did, and through it caused me some pain, I'm glad he made it clear for me, as you should be." Seeing that her explanation was sinking in, she decided to reassure him by curling her body back into his, her head back on his chest. A small smile pulled at her lips as she felt him relax the instant she touched him.

Chakotay cleared his throat, deeply embarrassed by his outburst. It seemed like the caveman in his mind was stronger than he'd ever cared to admit. "Yeah, you're right…of course." He felt, rather than saw, Seven's eyebrows rise once more in response to this less than gracious reply and heaved an agitated sigh as he clung to her in confusion. "God, have I always been this jealous?" he muttered uneasily as he mulled over his past actions, stretching over not weeks or months but years, and could now see all the hallmarks of his present behaviour.

Seven shifted so that her chin was resting on his chest and she could look up at him, giving each of his hands a forgiving squeeze as she did so. "You have always expressed the…protective side of your nature with me…" She murmured, kindly understated what she only now understood to have been the root of the over-protectiveness that had, more often than not, pushed her into either resentment or complete disobedience.

"The possessive side of my nature more like." Chakotay admitted with a self-deprecating exaggerated groan as he easily flipped them both over on the bed so that she was lying below him. "How did you ever put up with me?"

"With difficulty." Seven instantly tossed back without even blinking, only the twinkle in her eyes betraying her deadpan tone even as she looped her arms comfortably around his neck.

"Oh, is that so?" Chakotay retorted in mock offense, "I'm going to remember you saying that…" He whispered huskily, his heated breath tickling her skin as he bent his head to kiss her. At first it was a feather light row of kisses over her jaw line and down her throat, though each time he repeated the sequence each touch of his lips intensified and lingered. When he moved on each trace of him on her skin was heated as if she'd been branded, the trail he left reminding Seven of a man laying a long fuse in readiness for lighting it. Soon enough she lost patience with the sparks and moved her hands up to bury them in his hair and pull his face to hers and truly kiss him. The flame of intensity they'd discovered in their first, desperate kisses didn't diminish but changed form. Instead of being shocked, burned, by the heat it now warmed them from the inside out as certainty softened the rougher edges of their passion. Chakotay took his time now, exploring and teasing at her mouth, moving back to her throat when air was needed before returning.

Seven was lost in him, but still present. All complex thought had left her, but in this instinct was the better guide. Her hands roamed his broad shoulders and slid up and down his lithe arms, then would search his face as her eyes drifted closed, relearning every feature imprinted on her mind's eye with this new sense of touch and sensation. When, however, she heard her own whimper as he broke off one particularly deep kiss and then his answering moan as his head fell into the crook of her neck, his hands starting to move over her body, her muscles writhing as if they now obeyed his touch rather than her mind, something of her self-awareness began to return. For someone who had never been encouraged to be tactile, a person with whom other people wanted to avoid close contact as much as her manner discouraged it, physical intimacy was a complete unknown. Apart from a guiding hand on the small of her back on occasion, the squeeze of a shaking hand now and then, a short, clutching hug when one or both of them had been desperate or despairing, she hadn't had much contact from Chakotay before tonight either. The unknown, the fear of failure, oppressed even mutual pleasure for her as she realised just how far he was taking her

Chakotay felt her shift in mood even before he heard her embarrassed squeak as just how turned on he was became increasingly evident. It took much of his willpower but he pulled back from her now still body, his relentless ardour reined in as his own sense of self came back. "Seven?" he asked softly, "Are you okay?"

Seven's face was scarlet before that was wiped away by chalky white. "Chakotay, I…" She forced out, her breath, like his, coming out in short pants, her expression skittishly stricken, then frustrated. "I love you…" She choked, following the tattoo above his eye reverently with one hand as she struggled to meet his gaze, "I do want…I just…" She swallowed hard, unable to express herself, "I'm sorry…"

"No, I'm sorry." Chakotay cut in firmly, cupping her face to kiss her forehead before carefully rolling of her to lie side on and calm himself down. "We're going too fast, _I'm _going too fast." He cringed guiltily, wondering how much he'd risked by giving in to impulsive hormones so quickly, the last thing he wanted was for Seven, however wrongly, to see herself as a cast off, a one-night stand. She, the two of them together, was more special than that. He gently ran a hand up and down her side as he wrapped his arms back around her in a cuddle, "Don't worry about it, promise me?" he murmured, "We've come a long way tonight already."

Seven nodded slowly, relaxing slightly in his arms. "Yes."

Chakotay mirrored her nod, his chin brushing her shoulder as he again tried to change the mood. "How much sleep did the Doctor tell you to get in order to replace regeneration?" he queried, rubbing his thumb over the optical implant over her eye thoughtfully.

Seven flinched a fraction as he touched the prominent implant, and the seeds of a suspicion began to take root in him. "Eight hours." She answered perfunctorily.

"Well then, you'd better get some sleep, especially if we need to talk to Captain Janeway in the morning." Chakotay suggested lightly.

Seven's face brightened in relief. "Really? You are willing to speak to her so soon?"

Chakotay shrugged off her surprise as he rose from the bed to finally pull off his shoes and lift the duvet. "Yes." He replied sincerely, about to undress further when he saw her watching him while sitting upright in the bed, still in full uniform. "Will you be able to sleep wearing all that?" he asked as nonchalantly and light-heartedly as he could. He'd put enough pressure on her for one night.

Seven's gaze widened a bit, realising belatedly that he didn't expect her to return to her own quarters. She decided not to resist but still glanced awkwardly down at her uniform. "It does not make for conventional sleepwear." She admitted, pausing uncertainly for a second before clumsily slipping the cumbersome jacket off, leaving her, like Chakotay, in the standard issue vest. Unlike Chakotay however, she neatly folded it into her lap instead of throwing it in a crumpled bundle to the floor. Goosebumps instantly prickled on the remaining human skin surrounding the implants embedded in her shoulder to start her cybernetic arm as she felt Chakotay's eyes on her.

The bed creaked as Chakotay sat back down, his hand settling firmly on the very shoulder, his fingers slipping under the strap of her vest. "I've seen your implants before Seven…" He began empathically, showing an uncanny and unnerving knack for reading her thoughts.

Seven's eyes, the lids lowered as she continued to focus on the jacket on her lap, flicked to his for an instant. "Not all of them." She finally said frankly.

"No, not all of them…" Chakotay conceded, his breath hitching slightly, "But I know none of them are going to bother me." He told her honestly, running his hand easily over her left shoulder and down that arm. He _was _being honest, he acknowledged the implants as much as always, but it didn't lessen his attraction to her in any way. In fact, his admiration of her increased as he remembered hearing Dr Chovak explain to his father what could be gathered about the assimilation process from Seven, something she'd never discussed in detail and he hoped she didn't remember. The threads of pale skin visible on the cybernetic arm were skin grafts to hold it together, not the remnants of her real arm underneath. Her real left arm had been amputated at the shoulder, ripped from the joint, and the same went for her right leg at the hip and, most brutally, one of her eyes removed. To survive that process, and she'd been through many more, was awe-inspiring to say the least. Seven watched as he continued to stroke her arm, and sighed softly. He took the chance to reach out and hastily unpin her hair, grinning to himself as the golden waves cascaded to frame her face. "There, you're perfect." He commented with satisfaction, "I'll convince you of that completely…sometime." He murmured with a loving smile that tempted a small but genuine one from Seven in reply as she leaned forward and kissed him sweetly and gratefully.

"For tonight we should get some sleep." She reminded him wryly, "Doctor's orders."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm heading back to university on Monday so this will probably be my last update until next weekend, since I have to move back into a student flat and get an internet connection arranged. If anybody posts new C/7 stuff, I'll review when I'm back online! :)**


	63. Animal Magnetism

**A/n: Hi everyone! Hopefully the site will cooperate with me this time and this chapter will go up fine, I had to delete and repost the new chapter of 'The Loving Game' three times on Sunday before it showed up, sigh. I owe a huge thank you to seraphim2db, vision quest writer extraordinaire, for beta-reading this chapter for me. This final, improved draft wouldn't have been posted without his help. The name 'Waanaki' means 'peace within' in one of the Native American languages.**

Wakefulness came slowly, but when it arrived Chakotay couldn't shake it off. Where the warmth of Seven's body so near his had in the depth of the night lulled him into a dreamless, contented sleep, now, predictably, her presence roused him to thought as he studied her. He'd known her, what, almost seven years now, and he couldn't recall ever seeing her completely succumb to sleep before now, although he knew his own actions and orders had pushed her beyond the limits of exhaustion many more times that he now wanted to admit. Feeling too hot under the slightly scratchy but none-the-less well-insulated Starfleet issue duvet, he was after all still almost fully clothed, having only dispensed with his jacket and boots the night before, he rolled heavily onto his back and peeled his half of the duvet down to his waist. Seven breathed a sleep-weighted groan and twisted out of the cocoon formed around her by the duvet and Chakotay's hold to possessively, if unconsciously, sling one arm over his chest, their legs were already partially entwined, and then lay her head firmly under his chin. Chakotay had to angle his head far to the side to be able to see her face, a light chuckle rising up his throat as he wondered how she'd react if she woke up to find them like this, rather red-faced no doubt. It was oddly endearing that someone so reserved, even wary, in the real world could in turn be so open in her embrace. She looked so different when sleep disconnected her preternaturally alert brain from the world; more relaxed, softer, _vulnerable_. Their new crewmates wouldn't have a doubt about Seven of Nine's humanity if they could see her through his eyes right now, with her piercing eyes closed to reveal long, golden lashes and the pillows having transformed her sleek golden mane into a frizzy crown around her face as if she were a yellow dandelion. He hadn't seen that any of that before, but last night had shown them how much was left to discover. On second thought, how she looked when asleep could just be his secret.

Eventually, as he heard the environmental systems kick on the air-conditioning that heralded morning and one side of his body bristled with goosebumps in response, he knew he should get up, the sight of the shadows, crouching and ready to pounce, around the bed beginning to get to him. He sat up gradually, carefully transferring Seven's weight back to the bed before rising. A fond grin danced across his lips as Seven immediately rolled into the warm hollow he'd left behind, her drowsy mumbling incomprehensible other than the three syllables of his name before she settled back into oblivion. Chakotay shivered all the way up from his bare feet as he left his (their?) bedroom and headed back into the living area alone. His eyes, despite having to adjust to the light that flickered on obligingly, nonetheless locked on the medicine bundle he'd cast aside, literally and metaphorically, the night before. He found himself drawn towards it even as the sight of it made his stomach twist with doubt. The spirituality that had sustained his father, which had been laid out before him like a gift in childhood then hung around his neck like a noose in adolescence and abandoned him as a Maquis leader now seemed both alien and soothing in the inescapable, clinical environment of this Starfleet vessel.

His fingers began to loosen the knots that closed the bundle by muscle memory, and even when he consciously questioned what he was doing the familiar weave of the fabric, sown by his grandmother no less as a gift for the day he'd received his tribal name as a baby, stilled his shaking hands like the warm touch of a human hand. It had to be done. His father would've said that the Spirits were calling on him to seek their counsel, but Chakotay was more inclined to believe that his own anxieties over his new position had pushed him to seek conviction and peace of mind wherever he could find it.

He thought of just getting it over with right there, but remembered that slipping into a vision quest was easiest in a familiar and comfortable place. He'd never performed the ritual successfully outside of his old bedroom, the remnants of which now blew through the blackened, shrunken forests of Dorvan V as ash and dust. Whenever he'd retreated to the practice to the Valjean he'd always given up with a flash of the impotent frustration which had consumed him back then. With a shaky sigh, he turned on his heel and backtracked into the bedroom, kneeling on the floor within sight of the bed, Seven still reassuringly visible. The mementos and artifacts that anchored him to this world slid uneasily around in his damp palms but he as he made the necessary arrangement an eerie calm settled over him, culminating in a laboured sigh of relief as he pressed his palm against the device that, as far as science was concerned at least, would 'induce' the vision. The ingrained rhythm of the prayer left his lips as a reverential but quaking whisper, "A-koo-chee-moy-a. I am far from the scared places of my grandfathers, I am far from the bones of my people, but I ask to be guided by our Spirits wisdom…A-choo-chee-moy-a…"

* * *

><p>The damp, healthy, invigorating scent of the forest surrounded him first, giving him the confidence to open his eyes, already knowing what he would see. Dorvan, or at least a blurry, idealized version of it. The soaring, majestic trees encircling him was unmistakable, as were the twin moons hanging languidly above him, not quite banished by the rosy fingertips of dawn that were not yet brushing the tops of the trees. Otherwise, the area was oddly generic, he couldn't pinpoint any features which betrayed this as a dim memory of a real location. The silence was unnatural too, no rushing water, no birdsong or even the click and buzz of the insects which should've been rampant. He was alone. If this vision followed the pattern he'd set out over his life time, then the first creature he would see would be his animal guide.<p>

The sight of the slick, muscular, emerald green body of the snake still made him shudder as he looked down at the soft ground even though he had expected it on all but the most irrational, hopeful level.

"Hello Waanaki." Chakotay greeted, shifting uncomfortably as the snake slithered towards him. "It's been some time."

The snake's head twitched upwards, its unblinking gaze fixed on him pointedly. "You greet me as a friend but in your heart you still expect another guide to come to you?"

Chakotay shifted uncomfortably again, disconcertingly reminded of a conversation with a particularly judgmental school principal, or even, since the snake was female, Captain Janeway. "I can't help it if my dislike of snakes pre-dated my vision quests." He muttered eventually, embarrassingly aware of how peevish he sounded.

Waanaki lisped over her long tongue, "Such minor things are not considered, you call out I am the one who answers, so I am the one you need."

Chakotay frowned, his unease hitching up a notch. What kind of cryptic answers was he going to get to his real questions? "You sound more like Seven's animal guide saying that, not mine."

The snake gave him a sharp look, her body rising partially off the ground. "Annika Hansen has her own presence here, but you are not here for her now." she informed him. "Your guide is part of yourself, and people often fear the spirit in themselves which they keep hidden from others but also draw their strength from." Waanaki commented succinctly.

"I know that you represent something about me." Chakotay cut in, "What is it? My slipperiness? My duplicity in changing sides once again…" He ground out in despair.

The snake stiffened, and for one ludicrous moment Chakotay thought he'd offended his guide, but then she shook itself out and jerked her arrow shaped head back towards him, watching him intently. "Chakotay, the snake is close to the ground, to the life of the earth and its creatures. Annika, the one that is in your heart, will not gain that insight without you just as you cannot gain a different perspective on life without her. You disparage a creature you do not understand, when the time comes I will shed this skin and grow another which fits me equally well, and I will continue to change and adapt in this way, but yet I stay fundamentally the same. How else would you describe the change in your life?"

Chakotay mulled over these confusing yet bitingly clear words in his mind. "I was a child of our people, then I became a Starfleet officer, then a dedicated Maquis when they betrayed us, and now I'm a leader of another Starfleet crew…" He regarded the snake desperately, "How can I be all of these contradictory people and still be myself?"

The snake's voice suddenly echoed, seemingly far away from him. "You will discover yourself over time. Remember that if you need me I will always be here to guide you in all things."

"Wait!" Chakotay shouted as he stumbled forward, the forest had suddenly darkened, confronted by night instead of day. He strained his eyes in search of his guide, but instead he heard a bird's cry. Tracking the sound to a tree, he saw a black raven perched in one of its branches. Smiling at it as it watched him, his eyes widened as he saw a man standing under the canopy of branches. A man whose death had forced his hand into joining the Maquis. It was his father.

Chakotay sprang back involuntarily as if he'd been kicked, gasping as he took his father's enigmatic features, his dark, soulful eyes, so like his own, boring into him, saying everything and nothing. "Father, talk to me please!" He begged breathlessly, "Am I doing the right thing? I feel…" Sobs caught in his throat, "…I feel like I'm betraying you…" He stopped as he saw Kolopak's face twist with pain at that and struggled to control himself, "Please…I just need to know that you understand…everything I've done…" He stopped breathing for an instant as he saw his father give him a smile that was as understanding as it was sorrowful. At that moment Chakotay felt something tug at him, and in tandem Kolopak's image in front of him began to fade as the raven cried one last time. "No! Don't go! Dad! Dad!"

* * *

><p>Seven woke to the sound of a ragged gasp that wasn't her own and sat up without really giving herself time to come to or get her bearings. As her fingers, instinctively grasping around for a defensive weapon, instead curled around down filled bedding she blinked blearily, only now truly taking in her surroundings. She suppressed a surprised intake of breath as she spotted the various accouterments that Kolopak had once taken great pride in telling her the significance of each one in turn, although with a mixture of incredulity, shame and shyness she'd always refused the opportunity to undertake a 'vision quest' herself. She regretted that decision now, despite the fact that her ambivalent feelings about the process hadn't changed much, because she'd missed the opportunity to bond with Kolopak in that way. She suspected Kolopak's absence had strained Chakotay's acknowledgement of his people's rituals to the point of avoidance, but she also knew that he'd been deeply conflicted even before she'd met him. Contrary, Kolopak had called his son, only half in jest. She could easily reject that judgement, Chakotay was perhaps the only constant in her life after all, but she hadn't really expected him to return to his people's teachings either.<p>

She watched him for a moment wondering whether to pretend that she hadn't seen what he was doing, but seeing his shoulders continue to shake made up her mind. Slipping out of the bed with a grace that undermined her tousled appearance, she padded soundlessly across the room and tentatively put a hand on Chakotay's shoulder, relieved and gratified when he instantly stilled under her touch, his breathing steadying. "Are you alright Chakotay?" she murmured, trying her best to keep her voice level, comforting.

Chakotay blinked rapidly a few times before answering, "Yeah, yeah…I'm okay." He replied thickly, twisting his kneeling frame so he could lean into her touch as he took several deep breaths. "I know…I know we're doing the right thing here, with Voyager." Seven's only response to that was to bring her other hand to his face and absently rub circles into his cheeks with her thumb as he pressed his head against her flat stomach for comfort, and soon she was holding him there, running her fingers through his hair as she sighed to herself. He was inordinately grateful that she didn't seem inclined to question his statement, he doubted he could've strung together a description of the experience that would make any sense at that moment.

Seven let herself continue to cuddle him, worried by the intensity of whatever he'd done. His gaze had lost its initial glazed look but his face and hair were damp with sweat, as if he were recovering from a physical as well as a mental ordeal. "Do you want me to make breakfast for us?" she asked, feeling more than a little lost and impotent.

Chakotay however, smiled, automatically reminiscing about the mouth-watering meals she'd whipped up for his family before the Val jean's system of rationing had constrained her talents somewhat. "That would be great." He admitted gratefully, coiling his arm around her waist to pull himself onto his feet. He made up for the unusual wake-up call by kissing her tenderly, "Morning beautiful." He murmured as their foreheads met.

Pink tinged Seven's full cheeks at his unashamed endearment and turned her head away slightly as she tried to smooth her wayward hair. "You are under no obligation to compliment me at this time in the morning."

Chakotay shrugged, undeterred. "I call it as I see it." He replied frankly, pleased when she gave a small smile in response. "I'll go jump in the shower while you're making breakfast, we'd better look our professional best for this particular conversation with the Captain."

"Yes…" Seven agreed distractedly, her face reddening further. Chakotay was sorely tempted to pull her into the shower with him if the idea made her blush this much and he chuckled huskily to himself as his fingers brushed her flushed cheeks to bring her face up for a another kiss.

She sighed regretfully as they broke apart again and he smiled, "I really love you."

Seven's eyebrow arched teasingly, "You _really _love my cooking and always have." She remarked knowingly.

"Well, haven't you ever heard the expression that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach?" Chakotay joked.

"I don't think I have…" A smirk pulled at Seven's lips even as her voice remained deadpan, "If that were the case you'd have competition, it was a crew consensus that I was the only one on the Valjean who could cook." Laughing only when his mouth dropped open, she tapped him teasingly on his toned stomach before heading off for the kitchen.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D As well as seraphim2db's great story 'Annika and the Emissary', remember to check out cojack's C/7 story, 'Healing Wounds'. Thanks so much for posting chapter 7 cojack, it was amazing! :)**


	64. Chakotay's Girl

**A/n: Thanks to NikkiB1973 for starting a new C/7 story, 'Annika'. I know, as the story's beta reader, that readers of this story especially will enjoy it. It's another AU where Chakotay and Seven meet under very different circumstances as children! So read, enjoy and review! After you've done the same for this chapter of course. ;) **

Harry Kim frowned intently down at the flashes of data, most of it deceptively mundane with the occasional instant of the unknown, flickering across his Ops console. He felt the despondency he'd been fighting off all night with the hope for this morning's shift start to creep into his heart once again. He'd been kidding himself to hope that the Delta Quadrant, unexplored frontier that it was, would yield multiple wormholes leading home, or be populated with alien species just as powerful but more universally benevolent than the Caretaker, who would be willing to send them home as spontaneously as they'd arrived here. It wasn't to be. One glance at his console had told him that, though he kept persevering, even as the space around Voyager appeared to be as normal and as hard to traverse as its Alpha Quadrant equivalent. Realistically, his first mission, scheduled to take four weeks, would instead approach 75 years. However, Harry, though trained to be analytical, clung to his natural optimism. They were bound to find something, someone, to push them ahead, and he'd certainly fulfil his dream of exploration…

He heard the soft swish of a door and automatically glanced towards the Ready Room, Captain Janeway had been appearing periodically, though it was still very early, to check up on things but that door remained snuggly closed and he flushed in embarrassment as he heard Tom Paris wryly greet their new First Officer, _Commander _Chakotay.

He hastily turned to face the turbolift doors, frantically trying to remember whether it was protocol to salute the First Officer before deciding to play it safe. However, his hand froze halfway into the salute as he noticed Seven of Nine standing beside Chakotay in full Starfleet uniform, the blue in the jacket emphasising her piercing gaze. "Good Mo…Morning Commander." He finally forced out, grimacing as he heard the prominence of a nervous stutter in his voice.

Chakotay felt his jaw lock as he saw that Kim's overwhelmed gaze was fixated to Seven rather than his Maquis Commander, but the nerve irrational possessiveness had set twinging quickly stilled as he noticed Kim's shaky salute, memories of his first commission flooding his mind. If anything was as challenging as fighting at Wolf 359, as he had, then being on Voyager right now was it. "At ease Ensign…and good morning." He replied with a small smile, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine Commander, I'm fit for duty. The EMH reversed whatever the Caretaker did." Harry assured him, "How's B'Elanna doing?"

Chakotay paused for a moment, wondering if he could describe the fiery Klingon, or any of his crew for that matter, as 'fine', considering what they were dealing with, but everything is relative, as Seven would say. "The Doctor seems to be well programmed, she's better now too." He settled on saying, thinking that was just revealing enough to ring true.

Tom gave a dry chuckle, "You say that now, wait until you have to stay with him long enough to see his version of a bedside manner, you'll want to wipe the programme and start again." He turned his chair to meet Chakotay's eye, "What post will B'Elanna hold?"

Chakotay frowned slightly; Tom disguised his interest as nonchalant curiosity pretty badly. "We haven't come to a decision about suitable posts for the majority of the crew as yet." He answered smoothly, wincing internally as he saw Seven quirk a subtly questioning brow at him. It seemed that mastering Starfleet double-talk came naturally to him. Then again, he couldn't exactly say that he didn't know as yet either. Of course he had preferences, he'd discussed which posts he could suggest for the rest of his crew while he and Seven had used the excuse of walking Lucky to peruse the ship after breakfast, but confiding in Seven and blabbing to Tom were polar opposites in terms of good judgement.

"Since you are here Commander, I will relinquish command of the Bridge to you." Tuvok's cool, steady voice interrupted Chakotay's musings. "I respectfully suggest that I am permitted to leave the Bridge, my security team must be…reconfigured to our new situation."

Chakotay shot the Vulcan a pointed glance; normally the perfectly routine procedure of seniority on the Bridge wouldn't need such a blatant statement. Studying the older man's impassive face for a moment, he strode firmly over to Tactical. "A report on the night shift please Lieutenant." He ordered smoothly.

Tuvok didn't miss a beat, though he continued to look forward towards the viewscreen rather than meet Chakotay's eyes. "There are no incidents to report Commander. We have continued on our route to the Alpha Quadrant at an average speed of Warp 6.8."

"How are repairs progressing?" Chakotay prompted.

"As well as was anticipated, but Lieutenant Carey did request that the crew assigned to work in Engineering increase for the day shift." Tuvok replied levelly.

Chakotay stepped up the small step which separated the Tactical console from the Bridge's main thoroughfare so that he stood level with the security chief. "Look Tuvok…" He began frankly in a lowered tone, "I know that our…pasts, your role on the Valjean, could mean that you expect to have problems with me, but I want you to know that there are none on my side. You were doing your duty, as I was I was doing mine."

Tuvok gave a careful nod, "I am…gratified that you see things logically Commander."

"Good." Chakotay stated swiftly, "I hope my new position won't cause conflict between us, we always worked well together before and that needs to continue on Voyager."

"If you are implying that your promotion would cause me some discomfort Commander you are mistaken." Tuvok told him stoically, now turning his inscrutable gaze fully on Chakotay, "Your position will promote cohesiveness between the two crews, and that can only be logical. I intend to serve under you as effectively as I would under Captain Janeway or any other superior officer."

Chakotay knew, and was grateful, that the sentiment seemed sincere, although he doubted, despite the Vulcan's impressive detachment, that he was entirely at ease with the situation. Then again, who could honestly say they were? "I'm glad of your support Mr Tuvok." He allowed himself the release of a sigh, "If you're looking to build up your security team, I can suggest a few members of the…" He had to force out the word despite himself, "…former Maquis who may be suitable."

"I have already taken many of them under consideration, but your input would be applicable." Tuvok answered with a deeper nod.

Chakotay smiled at him briefly in relief before bringing his face back under control, "I'll let you get started with your arrangements soon, I need you to take the Bridge while Seven and I talk to the Captain then you can go."

Tuvok straightened his shoulders, his gaze already refocusing to observe the entire Bridge once again. "Understood Commander."

Seven felt some of her muscles relax as she overheard this conversation, it sounded as if Tuvok was accepting, or at least resigned to, the new order. She had expected it, since she knew Vulcans, and Tuvok in particular, well enough to know that it would only be logical, but Chakotay had been apprehensive nonetheless. Her attention drifting, she'd rather not dwell on the inevitable conversation with Captain Janeway, she noticed Ensign Kim staring at her. It was easy to ignore, she was used to anyone taking an adverse reaction to her at first, but her new position demanded that she work closely with Ops and Ensign Kim hadn't really been introduced to her presence yesterday. So she calmly met Harry's eyes, sighing internally as she was his eyes widen. She assumed it was based in fear and thus addressed him softly, "Good morning Ensign."

"Good morning Miss Sev…" Harry began shakily, his eyes bugging out his head even further when he spotted the twin gold pips of a Lieutenant on the collar around her slender neck, "I…I mean Lieutenant, I'm sorry…"

"My rank is still a new, and unusual, development." Seven admitted as she walked over to his console. "Captain Janeway has appointed me to the post of Science Officer. You may address me as Seven or Seven of Nine as you wish. I believe we will be working together a great deal, at least until I can create a specific base for long range detailed sensors."

She was surprised when the Ensign's face warped into a wobbly grin. "That would be great, working together." He saw bemusement flicker across her face and realised he sounded a little _too _enthusiastic, "Not that I'm not interested in your ideas for the sensors, of course I am…" He rushed to assure her awkwardly.

"Of course." Seven echoed blandly, unsure how to approach his man given his rather erratic behaviour.

"Right…" Harry cleared his throat as he saw Seven begin to move away. "I saw you this morning…." He blurted out abruptly, flushing in embarrassment once again when Seven stared at him in blank surprise, "Walking your dog." He clarified hurriedly, "Walking your dog with the Commander. She looks like a good, fun dog…"

Seven blinked, a smile pulling at her lips. It appeared that she and Ensign Kim _did _perhaps have something in common, they both proved ineffective at deploying 'small talk'. "Lucky is a male dog Ensign." She corrected him, kindly keeping her face straight for Ensign Kim's sake as Tom began to chortle behind them.

"Oh." Harry choked out faintly, "Either way, _he _seems like a nice animal. I know it'll be hard to keep him occupied on a starship, if you ever need help walking him…"

"I will seek your assistance." Seven finished for him, "Thank you Ensign. Lucky is quite attached to me and Chakotay, but I will remember your offer."

"Okay…" Harry replied weakly, suddenly exhausted.

"Seven, are you coming?" Chakotay addressed her while he was halfway to the Ready Room door, glancing back over his shoulder in search of her. He tried not to laugh at Harry's shell-shocked expression as Seven, clueless about such things as ever, nodded politely to her new crewmate before quickly returning to his side so that they could enter the Ready Room together.

Tom let rip on the laughter he'd been struggling to stifle as soon as the doors had closed behind the unacknowledged couple. "Smooth, Harry." He commented drily when the laughter had abated.

Harry glared at his friend, "It wasn't like that!" he insisted hotly, "She's new, she might have trouble making friends, and she's…she's a Lieutenant now…"

Tom's eyebrows lifted teasingly as he spun in his chair to face the younger man, "I'm a Lieutenant too, are you going to offer to walk my dog if I ever get one?" he joked, becoming serious as he saw Harry was genuinely flustered, "Look Harry, Seven outranks you on so many levels, and Chakotay will knock you back down to civilian if you ever decide to forget that." He frowned thoughtfully, "And I mean knock literally, B'Elanna told me he was a boxing champ in the Academy."

"Are you saying that I'm not good…" Harry began, then shook his head good-humouredly, "I guess I'd need to learn to talk to her like a sane person first." He admitted as curiosity dawned on him, "So, her and Chakotay…"

"They wouldn't tell me if they were." Tom interrupted him firmly, "But there's a reason why one of Seven's nicknames in the Maquis was 'Chakotay's Girl', and that it stuck even while he was sleeping with Seska."

Harry gave an acknowledging shrug, "I should've known when I saw them with the dog. My mom told me once that sharing a pet with someone is the test run for marriage and kids."

* * *

><p>Chakotay took a deep breath as he entered the Ready Room, his nerves spiking as he felt the usually indomitable Seven shuffle closer into his side. The atmosphere of the Ready Room had changed since his first interview here the day before. The dry, grey bare bones of the room remained the same of course, but the signs of distress and disorder he'd seen then had been cleared away. The desk was neat, even sparse, even as Janeway continued to bend over it, the couch showed no sign of having been slept on, perhaps she'd finally unwound in her quarters, and the multiple empty coffee mugs of the day before had been replaced by a single clean one, with a brimming, steaming pot beside it. In general the room was calmer, more professional. Whether that boded well or ill for this conversation with the Captain, Chakotay couldn't be sure.<p>

Janeway glanced up from her desk, roused by Chakotay's sharp intake of breath, and quickly sat up straight in her chair, a wan smile tugging at her pale lips. "Is 'Good Morning' appropriate for the two of you today?" she quipped tiredly.

Seven exchanged a quick glance with Chakotay as she took the comment literally, "I would say so Captain, our morning has not been 'bad'."

"That's good to hear." Janeway replied with a small smile, "It's not been bad for me either, surprisingly, everyone seems to be knuckling down for the cause."

"We're all reasonable people, I hoped that would be the case, but I'll admit I was expecting a few more problems." Chakotay remarked thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't say we're scot-free yet Commander." Janeway cautioned, "There's bound to be a few teething problems, we've still to assign the majority of the…" She blinked painfully, suddenly overwhelmed with memories of her meticulous recruiting process for the ship just a few months ago, many of those people had died, and now here she had to replace them ad hoc. "…vacant posts." She stopped as both Seven and Chakotay nodded solemnly in agreement, only now noticing how close together they were standing, their fingers tantalisingly close to brushing. That was a definite change from the distancing behaviour she'd witnessed between them before, but then again maybe they were settling back down into normality after these days of grief and stress. "But you're not here to discuss those are you?" she asked pointedly.

Seven flinched, apprehension hobbling her usual directness. "No Captain…"

Chakotay decided, seeing what he thought was understanding in Janeway's steely gaze, that there was nothing for it but to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and so securely laced his fingers with Seven's. "We're here to inform you that we're in a relationship Captain, a romantic one, and that it's _not _negotiable."

Janeway started slightly at his abrupt tone, but quickly collected herself. "Well, I can't say I'm hugely surprised." She admitted, fighting a smile when confusion flickered across both young faces, she'd need to compliment both Tuvok and Paris on their powers of detection, or speculation. "I did get some impression of that when I met you, but…" She studied Seven intently, trying to equate the unrequited girl of yesterday with the loved one of today, and couldn't help but gain some satisfaction from the fleeting thought that maybe her own words had pushed her forward. She regarded Chakotay seriously, professional again. "Having it confirmed does change things however. There have been couples on Starfleet ships before of course, on Galaxy class vessels there are whole families, but to have a couple within a direct chain of command is, if not outlawed, deeply frowned upon." She raised her hand for silence when Chakotay opened his mouth to object, passionately no doubt. "However, Voyager is in a unique set of circumstances, and I came to the decision about your respective positions knowing that this relationship was a distinct possibility down the line, so I'm willing to keep to our new status quo. I do however, strongly expect the two of you to keep your personal lives wholly separate from your professional lives as Starfleet officers, and as per regulation you'll only be allowed to go on away missions together at my discretion." She took a breath as she regarded them more humanely, "I also would appreciate it if you would extend your own discretion in regards to your relationship in general."

Seven nodded resolutely, "We prefer discretion Captain." She assured her bluntly.

Chakotay squeezed Seven's hand as he looked at his Captain through narrowed eyes. "But we're not going to hide anything either. We do appreciate privacy, but we've got nothing to be ashamed of either."

Janeway almost smiled wryly, her suspicion that Seven's honesty could be a fault confirmed. "No, of course not Chakotay. That wouldn't be reasonable. And my other requests?"

"Are reasonable." Chakotay conceded, "And probably wise enough."

"I want you to understand that I trust _your _judgement, you two seem to have worked together quite effectively for years without your relationship causing disruption, but you're the exception. I don't want to encourage the crew to start pairing off, I know it might become inevitable, but I intend to get us all home before that time comes, I can't have discipline deteriorating, not now. This is a Starfleet crew first and foremost, and second of all this ship isn't built for families, especially not in our situation…" She paused, smirking as she saw Seven stiffen and Chakotay's ears redden like those of a schoolboy.

"That is not our intention presently Captain." Seven informed her stiltedly.

"I should hope not." Janeway responded firmly even as she sighed resignedly, "But there will be one child born here it seems…" Seeing their stunned expressions, she elaborated, "Ensign Samantha Wildman came to me earlier to tell me that she's in the early stages of pregnancy."

"The father isn't…" Seven began painfully.

Janeway shook her head sadly, "No, he's stationed on Deep Space Nine. It's their first." She began to pace, "This ship isn't a nursery and never will be, but I didn't have the heart to…"

"Of course not." Seven cut in sharply, "_That _would not be your choice." Chakotay murmured something to her under his breath and she met Janeway's gaze again, impassive once more. "I believe that Engineering may require my expertise Captain. If our discussion has concluded may I leave to assist them?"

"Go ahead." Janeway agreed quietly, acknowledging her bird like nod before the young woman turned on her heel and left herself and Chakotay alone, his eyes trailing after her. "Speaking of new additions, I've agreed to Mr Neelix and Kes' request to remain on board. Neelix has already made himself at home in the Mess Hall galley."

Chakotay grimaced, "That might prove to be one of our teething problems." He joked, "If he has trouble adjusting tour tastes I'm sure I could convince Seven to teach him some recipes."

Janeway's eyebrows shot up to her hairline, "Seven of Nine is a chef?"

Chakotay smiled nostalgically, "One of the best on Dorvan V, and absolutely the best in the Maquis." He said proudly as he turned to follow Seven's path out, "I'll take the Bridge for now Captain, I told Tuvok he could leave to work on rebuilding his security team."

"Sounds like a plan." Janeway agreed warmly.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW, and remember to read 'Annika' too! :D **


	65. Assimilating a Little Black Dress

**A/n: Thanks to NikkiB1973 for betaing this chapter! :D**

Tuvok was greeted, as usual, with a smile by Captain Janeway as he entered her Ready Room as ordered, but he noted that the expression seemed tired. The strain in her voice as she spoke confirmed his observation, "I'm sorry for interrupting your work on forming a security team Tuvok, I hope you took some of Commander Chakotay's suggestions for Maquis applicants under consideration?"

"I have Captain. Mr Ayala seems particularly promising; I am considering whether to propose a field commission of Lieutenant for him."

Janeway grinned at him, her obvious pleasure and relief bringing youth back to her exhausted face. "Well, _if_ you _do _decide to make that proposal, consider it done." She assured him positively before her tone dipped, "We're not much further in the re-jigging of the other departments as yet, it's good to know that Security at least is in hand."

"I am gratified that my 're-jigging' efforts meet with your approval thus far Captain." He replied smoothly, his eyebrow arching marginally upwards as the Captain sank further back in her chair with a deep, contemplative sigh. "Is there something else you wish to discuss Captain?"

Janeway gave him a soft smirk, "You know me too well Tuvok." She moved forward again, resting her elbows on the desk as she looked up at him, "You were right about Chakotay and Seven of Nine."

Tuvok took a single step closer, which Janeway took as a sign of interest, but his tone remained level. "To which part of my analysis of their behaviour are you referring Captain?"

"They're together…as a couple." Janeway answered drily. She saw him blink and pounced on it, "You're surprised?"

"Merely by the timing Captain." Tuvok replied carefully.

Janeway's eyes widened, "You don't doubt their sincerity do you?" she demanded quietly.

"Not in the least Captain." He assured her quickly, "Their mating is eminently logical."

Janeway smiled at that as she relaxed, "I can't think of a higher vote of confidence from a Vulcan than that." She admitted, "Tom Paris did give me the impression that the only surprising thing about them is that their relationship _wasn't _romantically established when he met them…"

"I concur." Tuvok agreed simply.

"He also expressed the thought, in crude language that I won't repeat…" She chuckled to herself, "…that they'd benefit from being in a relationship." She sighed heavily, "I guess I took him at his word, because when they told me this morning I said we could accommodate them. But I'm starting to think Tuvok, just because I can, _should _I? Allowing intimate relationships to interfere in such a new, and frankly fragile, crew could be like opening a can of worms…"

"I understand your concerns Captain, as do Starfleet, that is why interpersonal relationships on starships are advised to be regarded with caution if not actively discouraged, but I believe that you are correct to consider Chakotay and Seven of Nine as the current exemption to that rule. I have witnessed on the Valjean that the behaviour of each can…destabilise if their bond to each other is compromised…"

"That is actually quite common among human couples Tuvok, if they're in love." Janeway commented wryly, her expression far away and watery for an instant before she refocused. "But I see what you mean and it guided my decision, it would've been cruel to separate them for the sake of it, putting aside the fact that I doubt they'd listen to me if I had; all of our lives have been ripped apart so much as it is…" She trailed off as her throat tightened, "The bottom line is that I _need _their trust and I _want _their loyalty, for that I didn't have much choice but to give my consent. I suppose it shows that they want the same from me, by telling me as honestly as they did."

"By that reasoning, you have made the correct and logical decision." Tuvok said solemnly, "And so you should not doubt it, if you intend to make clear to them, and the crew, that there are certain boundaries within the command structure."

Janeway rose from her chair, regarding him with fond gratitude as she approached, "Oh I think I made the boundaries pretty clear earlier, and I'm sure they understand the situation clearly enough, or soon will, to obey them."

* * *

><p>The next few days were stressful and chaotic, especially by the standards Seven clung to. Most senior positions had yet to be allocated and therefore it fell to the few who had established their rank and role to keep the tenuous alliance together and start Voyager's journey home with any semblance of organisation. Seven, despite the fact that her 'Science Officer' tag nominally meant that her area of command lay with the theoretical aspects of the journey, analysing the space they were passing through, searching for anomalies etc., had had to spend most of her hours, sometimes back to back double shifts, in Engineering. Of course, she was fully qualified for that without question, and she'd had to exploit that Borg technical edge that was acknowledged by all in order to diffuse the explosive atmosphere down in Engineering. At least twice a shift, she'd need to literally stand between B'Elanna and Lieutenant Carey to prevent them coming to blows, mediate between their competing ideas and then dole out whichever task each one had control over just so work could continue until the next confrontation. She dreaded to think what it would be like down there when the repairs were completed and there was enough time for a true battle of wills…<p>

So she'd been glad to leave Engineering to the much quieter night shift, but it was still late in the evening and she was tired, to the point where she earnestly missed the instant and lasting energy boost that regenerating had given her. Given the situation though, she was adapting to human sleep quickly, her body would generally give in to the need for rest without complaint. Chakotay had helped in that respect. If it were possible, he was even busier than she was, moving from deck to deck to smooth over disputes or clear confusion when he wasn't commanding the Bridge or locked in the Captain's Ready Room for 'negotiations'. They hadn't had an off-shift together since they'd taken their posts, their time together had thus been restricted to retreating to each other's beds in the early hours, whoever had pulled the latest shift joining the other. Tonight, if nothing had changed, Seven was heading for Chakotay's quarters, she would probably cook them both a meal and then they'd numbly head off to bed for much needed sleep.

She stepped sharply out of the turbolift onto Deck 4 where both her own and Chakotay's quarters were located, a spring coming back into her step as she approached respite. However, the sole other occupant of the corridor, coming in the other direction, made her freeze up despite herself. Seska. A malicious, knowing glint came into the older woman's eyes as she saw Seven slow down, her own stride lengthening confidently. "How's it going Seven?" she asked loudly, her jaunty tone adding another layer of sarcasm.

Seven stopped walking altogether to stare her down, "Your quarters are not on this deck Ensign."

Seska smirked, drifting across the corridor so that she stood almost toe to toe with Seven. "I'm well aware of that _Lieutenant_." She spat out Seven's rank like a curse word, "A power conduit blew out just down the hall, near _your _quarters actually if I'm not mistaken, B'Elanna sent me up to repair it before I go off-shift." She chuckled softly, saying almost to herself, "You and Chakotay living on the same deck, that'll feed the conspiracy…" Seven remained silent and stony faced, but Seska wasn't fooled, she was standing close enough to see the ex-drone stiffen. She arched her eyebrows in fake surprise, lifting her head to meet Seven's gaze. "What, you aren't going to ask me for details? I would've thought you'd have been interested in something like that, since you seem to be duty bound to deactivate yourself if you don't know everything…" She trailed off, smiling pleasantly, "But I'll let you in on the open secret shall I?" She didn't wait for her answer, "The latest, most salacious rumour is that you got your cushy post because Chakotay owed you, you let him relieve the stress of all this by 'de-flowering' you…" She grasped Seven's elbow familiarly, "But don't worry, I don't believe it."

"That is…good to hear." Seven finally replied through gritted teeth. "You did accuse me of trading the same favour with Gul Ishek in the past."

Seska gave a barking laugh in reply to that, "Well, I was a little fervent back then, I didn't see you clearly, how improbable it was. Don't get me wrong, Chakotay has needs like any virile young man…" She chuckled again, huskily this time, "I should know, but for him to…we both know how unlikely that is."

"I doubt you do." Seven replied icily, "Since my relationship with Chakotay is none of your concern."

"Of course not!" Seska agreed loudly before her voice dropped conspiratorially, as if she considered Seven her bosom buddy, "But I think I can guess what it consists of." Her lips curled into a sickly sweet smile, "You'll sit in his quarters with him, make him little homemade meals, listen to him patiently as he offloads his problems, and you'll tell him he's doing _so _well even as both crews crumble…" Her gaze bored into Seven's as she smirked sarcastically, "Yes, what man wouldn't be comfortable in such an arrangement? But a lapdog can only perform certain tricks you know."

Seven grimaced as she felt her cheeks warm self-consciously and she finally wrenched her arm away from Seska's vice like grip. "I don't see how you are qualified to comment, obviously _you _made Chakotay _uncomfortable_ in a multitude of ways, or else he wouldn't have discarded you." She reminded her in a defiant hiss.

Seska flinched at the word 'discarded', but quickly recovered as she zeroed in on Seven's defensiveness, the flush in her face. She'd hit her mark, even if the Borg had given her a glancing blow; it had been proven Chakotay was merely playing house with his pet Borg, and such a house could easily be brought down. "Maybe…we weren't perfectly suited." She admitted coolly, "But Chakotay will always remember that I have fire in my veins, that's what attracted him in the first place, not that a cold fish like you would understand that." She gave her adversary a long, pitying look before smoothly setting back off towards the turbolift, calling back, just as Seven tried to force herself forward, "He'll understand that about you soon enough too, Lieutenant."

Seven froze into an impassive statue until she heard the turbolift doors swish closed somewhere behind her, her simmering frustration beginning to bubble over as she realised that her hands were shaking. She should reject anything Seska said on the principle that it was purposefully inaccurate, she knew she should, but that knowledge couldn't stop her from reeling. The fact that the woman had been able to pinpoint her plans for the night, disparagingly or not, created enough of a gap in her emotional armour to allow the rest of the cruel barbs to needle her, poisoning her mood. She started off down the corridor again, hardly pausing to glance at the door to Chakotay's quarters before drawing back to flee into her own.

* * *

><p>Lucky looked up at her from the floor in disapproval as Seven hunched herself up at the edge of her bed, but he soon offered his tummy to stroke, barking impatiently when she ignored him. "Hush." Seven muttered sharply, breathing a brittle sigh when she heard the self-pity in both her voice and posture, cocooned as she was in her duvet, face buried in the damp pillow. This wouldn't do. Wallowing like this should be an antithesis to her efficient nature surely? How was dwelling on the seeds of doubt Seska had so neatly sown in her heart going to get rid of them? These questions flitted reproachfully through her mind, but other accusatory questions merely answered them and deepened the issue. What if she had been going about her relationship with Chakotay the wrong way, held back its progression somehow with her naivety? Perhaps she <em>was <em>cold, or worse, insipid. Chakotay couldn't _possibly _doubt that she was capable of passion…could he?

Her wild, uncontrollable thoughts were rudely interrupted by the rapid beeps of the access code being entered into the locking mechanism of her door from outside. She groaned shamefully into the pillow; only one other person knew her access code. The doors opened obediently to reveal the darkened room to the interloper, and there was no preamble, just a relieved sigh. "Good, you're in here." Seven could sense his uneasy frown branding her back, "I was getting worried, you never came to my quarters…" He began reprovingly before pausing awkwardly, perhaps realising how presumptive he sounded, and cleared his throat, "I mean, why didn't you come? Is there something wrong?"

"No." Seven answered hastily, unconsciously curling tighter in on herself, "I am functioning within normal parameters."

"Seven…" Chakotay sighed knowingly, "Whenever you say that nowadays you _mean _exactly the opposite, it's one of your tells."

"Would you believe me if I instead said I was 'fine'?" Seven muttered in retort.

"No, probably not." Chakotay replied good-naturedly as he cautiously approached the bed, quietly greeting Lucky before sitting down on the other side. "Are you going to tell me what's up?" he asked softly, affectionately fingering the golden plait she always put her hair into before bed, she was still following the beauty regime Sekaya had instilled in her at fifteen. He swallowed as he felt her flinch as his hand brushed the back of her neck, "Have I done something?" He would've thought that he'd know right away if he'd upset Seven in some way, she was reassuringly upfront in that respect generally, but of course there had been a shift in their dynamic so recently. He didn't want to think that his touch alone would unsettle her, but it occurred to him anyway. He'd been trying to take the physical side of their budding relationship at her pace, he knew it made her self-conscious, the Borg weren't exactly tactile, although she'd proven to be an amazing kisser from the off. It had been difficult, often torturously so, to exercise such self-control when it had already become habitual, even in the space of less than a week, to share a bed, but he'd never pushed a girl before and he wasn't going to start with Seven. It was perhaps a good thing in the long run that they'd been left so drained by their duties on Voyager that they'd barely had the energy to cuddle up together, share a few kisses, before succumbing to sleep, but it hurt that now she seemed to be withdrawing from even that.

"No, you have not done anything." Seven assured him hurriedly, reaching back for his hand and squeezing it guiltily. She inhaled deeply as she considered an explanation, "Dealing with…the crew has just been stressful that's all."

Chakotay sensed that he had reached the deepest root of the problem, but since he couldn't deny what she'd said, he let himself sigh brokenly in agreement and lie down beside her on his back. "The past few days would grind anyone down the two of us included." He conceded before a new thought occurred to him and he turned his head to look at her, "No one has been rude to you have they, because if that's it…"

"It is nothing new Chakotay, and even if it were I'd learn to resist it." Seven told him firmly, some of her natural steel coming through as she decided at that moment to 'resist' Seska. She now flipped around so that she was facing him and fondly ran her human hand down his cheek. "You worry too much about that Chakotay, you will alienate others."

"I'll 'alienate' whoever I need to." Chakotay replied dismissively, "I serve them while on-duty, but I protect you on or off, alright?" He returned her touched smile easily before opting to lighten the mood with a flash of inspiration that had just hit him, "We should go on a date honey, we need more time together."

"A date?" Seven echoed faintly, though the hope that shone through her uncertain tone told Chakotay that he'd judged correctly in how to lift the clouds surrounding her. "But our duties…" She pursed her lips fretfully, "You needn't feel any obligation to me in that respect…"

Chakotay scoffed at her teasingly, "Come on Seven, you're making it sound like a staff meeting! I'm asking you because I _want _to go on a date with you. What could be better to relieve our work stress than that?"

Seven's smile, though slow to form, was bright with delight when it did and Chakotay suddenly knew he'd been remiss in not asking her out, officially, before. "I cannot think of anything." She admitted softly.

Chakotay sat up abruptly, "Then I'll book us time off for tomorrow night then, the holodeck too." He swung himself off the bed, "I'll contact you with a time…"

Seven rolled her eyes at him even as she smiled happily, "You aren't staying here tonight, now that you're here?"

Chakotay chuckled as he twisted back round to return to her. "I was kind of hoping you'd say that."

Seven arched an eyebrow drily as she sat up to lead him back, "You have your tells also."

* * *

><p>'<em>The style phenomenon of the "little black dress", also known by the abbreviation of "LBD" has been a staple of refined, romantic dress for over four centuries…'<em>

Seven sighed resignedly as she read through the rest of the database's entry, she didn't like wearing black. It reminded her of the cloaks she'd always worn to hide her implants, and besides that, the colour emphasised just how pale her skin was; even three years living on Dorvan V, with its blissfully mild climate, hadn't given her the healthy, glowing, sun-kissed complexion of the settlement's other young women. However, when she'd begun her research into expected norms for dates, this entry had been one of the first results, so she supposed its advice must be sound. Black it was then. She was also trying to push the anxiety of just how 'little' of the dress there would be to the back of her mind as she flicked through the replicator database, not only for a dress and shoes but also for appropriate makeup. The sheer volume of choices made her shrink back from the screen, annoyed at herself for not leaving enough time before the date for this preparation while simultaneously wondering if she were going 'overboard' so to speak.

That concern was quickly dismissed, as it had been throughout the day. Rather than allow Seska's lingering taunts to deflate her mood, she was trying to use them to boost her commitment. By the light of day she saw the irrelevance of the conversation, after all she knew in her heart that Chakotay loved her, and she had plenty of evidence that he was powerfully attracted to her; however she'd come to the conclusion that she hadn't been showing that confidence in his attraction in her manner. She hadn't been acting feminine enough, passionate enough.

It was in this frame of mind that she selected a particular black dress; one she warily concluded trod the line between her boring comfort zone and vulgar overexposure. It only took a few seconds for the garment to appear, neatly folded with accompanying lingerie, in her replicator and she hurriedly put it all on before she could doubt the wisdom of her choice. However, even through the steam fogging up the bathroom mirror, she'd spent longer than usual in the sonic shower, the self-image made not only her face tinge red but also her décolletage that was revealed by the dress' v-neckline. She'd never worn anything like this in her life. The culture on Dorvan V, even if she'd hadn't been required to cover up her implants in any case, had been conservative, and Kolopak particularly so. He wouldn't have allowed her to been seen in public in such an outfit, especially since the neckline was more 'plunging' than she'd anticipated, obviously the model in the photograph wasn't as…well-endowed as she was. She resisted the urge to cringe back from her reflection in shame and instead analysed her reflection analytically. No, it wasn't indecent, not for a twenty two year old going on a date, and wasn't her objective to feel confident in her attractiveness? Unlike some of the dresses it had nice, wide straps that veiled the worst of the metal mottled skin where her cybernetic arm embedded in her shoulder and there was nothing else remotely immodest about the dress either, the skirt though close fitting comfortably hit her knee. It was what she had sought, a compromise. Besides that, she didn't have enough time left to select something else.

Fighting the urge to pull the dress' neck upwards as she walked, she returned to the replicator console and glared at it in bewilderment as she saw the variety of shades of lipstick on offer. She had even less experience choosing makeup than she did choosing clothes, and eventually selected the first lipstick colour shown so that she'd have enough time to figure out how to put it on properly. That stab in the dark was a disaster; it looked as if her mouth was bleeding! She found another colour shown on a blonde model and hoped that would look better, deciding it would do when she became wrapped up in trying to apply mascara, removing it and reapplying it repeatedly since she deduced that it wasn't supposed to leave black flecks under her eyes when she blinked.

Finally, restraining the desire to throw the brush across the room in frustration as she gave up, she barked out to the Computer, "Computer, time?!"

"1858 hours." The Computer answered with a detachment Seven was suddenly jealous of, amazed by her own, previously untapped, ability to become frazzled. She'd need to set off for the holodecks now if she didn't want to be late for the date, arranged for 1900 hours, but she forced herself to afford a few seconds to take several deep breaths before she left the sanctuary of her quarters.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D If you want a visual for how stunned Chakotay will be in the next chapter, watch the music video for Rihanna's 'Unfaithful', that's where I got the inspiration for Seven's dress from. ;) I just had to have Seven beat Seska at her own game! **


	66. Science and Faith

**A/n: Thank you to cojack for starting a new C/7 story, 'Out of New Earth', with three amazing opening chapters! :D Reading it made my weekend so I recommend that everyone gives it a look. Also, thank you to my guest reviewer Alastair Boneman for the story idea. I'm very busy at the moment with university work as well as my on-going fics but I'm definitely considering using your AU idea at some point. **

Seven was late.

Chakotay had never thought that he'd ever think that about Seven of Nine, formerly Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One, yet here he was waiting. Then again, it had been the same last night, although then she'd hung back from a newly established habit rather than an appointment, and if their first, _official _date wasn't an important appointment he wasn't sure what would be. The uneasy feeling he'd had the night before, when Seven had been giving out such a strange vibe, returned even as he tried to rationalise that she'd probably just been held up in Engineering with one of the more drawn out repairs or, more likely, by B'Elanna and Carey's brittle bickering. It wasn't as if 'adapting' to life on Voyager had been smooth and pain free for any of them, and Seven, despite her Borg mantras, disliked change as much as any other red blooded human.

He shifted position on the perhaps unnaturally springy but dry and comfortable grass the holodeck was projecting, trying to rest his back against the smoothest part of the broad tree trunk. It had been a challenge to select a holo-programme he thought Seven would appreciate; as far as he knew, although she could probably build one, she'd never stepped foot on a holodeck before now. He'd gone through and dismissed many restaurant interiors, the types of places he'd undoubtedly chosen from if they'd been on Earth, but left him dissatisfied on Voyager's holodeck. On a whim, he'd even tried to recreate the one eatery in their village on Dorvan V as it had once been, really the front room of a self-taught and warm hearted cook known even to his father, who'd known everyone else by their first name, as 'Mrs Morkai'. He'd barely managed to reproduce the whitewashed walls of that cosy room before giving up, grief blocking the warmer memories of the lost landmark to preserve his sanity. On reflection he'd begun to doubt that Seven had pleasant memories of the place anyway, he hadn't realised the true impact, that first year when Seven had gone to school with him, just how far his father had put himself out on a limb to keep Seven on Dorvan at all. He'd become aware, later; as fear of the Cardassians and unease over the Federation's stance on their protection had intensified in all the planet's settlements, their doubts over risking Starfleet's wrath over protecting a Borg drone had grown. Neither Seven nor his father had ever told so him explicitly, but Sekaya's looser mouth and his own powers of deduction told him that Seven hadn't ventured into the village much, other than to assist with the anti-Cardassian defences and accompany Kolopak for medical checks. Other than roaming through the empty forests at will with Lucky, she'd kept to the boundaries of the house which sheltered her. That he'd allowed her, and his father, to sink into such isolation was another of his regrets.

Accepting this…situation was, today at least, becoming another one. He'd felt alright before today, content that his crew was alive, _safe _, but as the shock of their encounter with the Caretaker wore off and the frenzy of repairs slowed he found his sense of dread growing. The first real test of his 'partnership', her word, with Captain Janeway, was quickly approaching and he knew it would be the first of many. As he'd walked the halls that day, assessing each crewmember for officer-hood, the feeling of being trapped had begun to consume him from the inside out. Locking people into roles they may well stagnate in for the rest of their lives, perhaps even die for, seemed far too final. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to the weight of life and death decisions, but being on Voyager felt different. On the Valjean, and he'd changed so much since he'd taken that on, there had always been a sense of control , despite the Maquis' 'us against the world' mentality it had been there. There had been a fluid goal, one he could change at will to suit the needs of his crew in the moment, but Voyager's need to get home wasn't like the desire to defeat the Cardassians. The fear that that need to get home would become a poisoned apple of temptation, one that would lead them into decisions that could kill them all, was creeping into his subconscious...

He shook his head slightly to clear it, slumping further back into the tree to stare up above the tops of the tropical trees to the picture of a fragment of Earth's night time sky imagined onto the ceiling by a computer programme. It was a trick of the mind that the stars were so much more benign and inviting when looking up at them like this, rather than when they stretched out endlessly in front of a lonely starship…

The measured swish of the holodeck doors broke off his musings for a moment, and he straightened up, but it was the sight of Seven that stopped his breath and numbed his vocal chords. "Sev…Seven?" he choked out, the word becoming both slurred and stuttered.

Seven's own breath had been taken for an instant as she entered, though not by Chakotay. For a split second of self-deception, she believed she'd stepped back into the forests of Dorvan V. Chakotay's odd greeting, who else would arrive here to their date?, fractured the illusion. This holo-programme was not a recreation of her first 'home', far from it. This forest was tropical, perhaps even a rainforest, though the designer had withheld actual rain from the programme, with the leaves and flowers merely glistening prettily with moisture rather than dripping with the constant flow of rain and pressure of humidity. Dorvan's forest had been a deciduous one, quite different. However, the resemblance she felt still lingered, and she was surprised by how much it made her chest tighten. If it reminded her analytical mind of Dorvan in passing, then for Chakotay the feeling must've been powerful. She gave him a tentative smile as she regarded him carefully, "I apologise for being late, I was…delayed." She had to fight the self-conscious urge to lick the sticky lipstick off her lips as she added that.

"That…That's okay…" Chakotay excused her in a dazed voice as he began to scramble up from the ground, but since the entirely of his mental focus was on using his eyes to drink her in rather than coordinating his wider movements he slid almost immediately and had to save himself by hugging the tree. He let it go hastily as he saw that Seven was fighting a laugh, and proudly made his way over her, even as his legs continued to shake.

Seven toned down her humorous reaction into a warm smile as soon as he came within touching distance, her gaze skimming around the transformed holodeck again in awe before settling back onto his face. She noted that his eyes didn't seem to know what to focus on about her. "Where exactly does this programme represent?" she asked curiously.

"It's called the Amazon programme." Chakotay replied, "I couldn't decide which programme you'd prefer for our date but I found this one while I was looking and had to show it to you, since I know Dad would've told you stories…"

Seven saw his face waver then and cut in, "He did, many fascinating, entertaining stories." She assured him as she looked around the poignant scene, "This is a reasonable visual representation of Earth's Amazonian Basin…" She remarked, "…though not particularly accurate climatologically."

Chakotay gave the wry chuckle of experience, "You wouldn't be worried about accuracy if you'd lived through a trek through the real area. Trust me, it's much better without the humidity and especially the bugs!"

"Chakotay, insects perform a vital ecological function." Seven reminded him, "I know you failed biology, but…"

"That's what Dad said, more or less." Chakotay muttered with a small, rueful smirk before it became a self-deprecating grin, "And how about we make it a rule that you don't mention my bad grades on a date? It's not really fair that you happen to know those to hold them over me…"

Seven inclined her head, "Agreed, but if you tried I'm sure you could remember my grades also."

"Yes." Chakotay conceded, "But since they were all perfect it doesn't give me much blackmail material."

"I do aim for perfection." Seven deadpanned with a twinkle in her eye before regret shadowed her face, "My source of failure lay outside academia."

"That's not true Seven." Chakotay countered softly, leaving it at that as he changed subject, "Speaking of perfection, tell me which programme you'd like for our date." He grasped her hands then, the contact pushing through the awe her dress had inspired in him and bringing confidence in its place as he held her out in front of him in now open admiration, "You look ready for San Francisco or New York, Rome or Paris…"

Seven took a breath as she considered. She knew it was compliment that he was willing to take her to such romantic, glamorous locations, whether they were holographic or not, but by the same token she knew she'd feel out of place in any of them, at least right now. Being on a date at all was foreign enough. She looked around the forest once more before unconsciously dipping her head, gazing at him uncertainly through lowered lashes, "I think…I would most like to remain here."

Chakotay blinked in surprise, "If that's what you really want, but I thought…" His eyes followed the curves of the sophisticated but unashamedly sultry dress she was wearing. That would've been attention-grabbing in the most cosmopolitan of environments, she obviously hadn't been _expecting _a date in a rainforest.

Seven gripped his hand to interrupt him, "You thought I would like it here, and I do." She told him sweetly, "However…" She looked down with a frown at her heels, they were tall enough to close the height difference between them entirely, but were right now progressively sinking into the grass; holodecks did apparently have some level of realism. "Would taking these off significantly detract from the appeal of this attire?"

Chakotay's smile was tellingly wide, his darkened eyes glinting in the moonlight that was this programme's sole source of lighting, focused unnaturally though it was, spotlight like, on this clearing in which they stood. "No." He pronounced confidently.

Taking that as sufficient reassurance, Seven swiftly removed her shoes, Chakotay looking on fondly as she smiled spontaneously at the sensation of grass on her bare feet. Heels in hand, she made her way towards the tree under which Chakotay had previously sat, almost hopping at first, but quickly gaining her footing. She could feel Chakotay watching her, he hadn't moved, and found herself purposely putting a slightly exaggerated swing in her hips as she walked, even more so than what the fancy heels had given her. Her enhanced hearing picked up his breath catching and she allowed herself a satisfied grin. She did not think herself vain, and had no desire to develop the trait, but there definitely was something inherently pleasurable in being aware of Chakotay's attraction to her and revelling in it, even if only momentarily. Chakotay's husky chuckle behind her, following on now, that he was well aware of the game she was playing and enjoying it as much as she was, if not more.

Chakotay only moved towards her again after she'd settled herself under the tree, her long legs tucked neatly beneath her. "How about a fire?" he asked, as he glanced thoughtfully around the visually stunning but silent environment.

Seven's brows furrowed, "The environmental controls are set within normal ship-wide parameters, an extra source of heat is unnecessary."

"It's necessary for the atmosphere Seven." Chakotay pointed out, "Holodecks aren't about necessity, they're about experience…"

"Understood." Seven responded with a light nod before a small smirk came to colour the solemn expression, "I think you can programme the holodeck to create the fire, since your _experience _for building them is far from exemplary…"

Chakotay's retort started as an exasperated snort but quickly became a vibrant laugh, "Am I ever going to be able to put that camping incident firmly into my past?"

"Not while my photographic memory is intact." Seven told him drily, her eyes twinkling, enjoying running over their well-trodden path of teasing.

Chakotay crouched down, looking over his shoulder at her to reply, "Don't worry, I learned my lesson back then." With that assurance given, he issued a brief order to the Computer, "Computer, place an open log fire in this clearing." Seven blinked as the acuity in her optical implant allowed her to see the millisecond long shimmer in the programme as the command activated, but the next time she looked the yellow of established flames had been cast over Chakotay's face, warming and defining his familiar strong features. He sat close to her side, leaning back so that he was a little behind her, his arms looping snugly around her waist. "Hi…" He murmured in husky contentment, kissing the side of her mouth.

Seven turned her head to kiss him back more fully, smiling shyly. "Good evening."

"It will be, it is." Chakotay answered firmly, lifting her hair off her shoulder with one hand so that he could kiss the sensitive spot in the crook of her neck.

Seven exhaled a long sigh of pleasure and leaned back into him until her back was melded to the muscle of his chest, her eyes half-closing as his lips continued to rain down on her throat and shoulder. She was more aware of the fire just in front of them by sound rather than sight, the friendly crackle close by like a simple chorus to their comfortable silence. "You were correct." She conceded softly, "The fire does improve the atmosphere."

"Mmhmm…" Chakotay mumbled distractedly in agreement, kissing her one last time before resting his chin on her shoulder to look towards the fire, "You know there's still a tradition for fireside storytelling in my tribe…" He sighed as he considered which to retell, and was surprised by which, bittersweet, personal story came to mind. "Did my father ever tell you about the time he took…dragged me to find the 'Rubber Tree People, how we got our tattoos?"

Seven tensed in his arms for a moment, "He mentioned it…" She said eventually, "He concluded it was your story to tell."

Chakotay was bemused, "My story?" he echoed, shifting around Seven so he could look directly into her eyes, but all he could see was honesty and compassion shining there. It seemed his father really had thought it would be better coming from him, but he couldn't help thinking that the direction was a message from his father to him, rather than Seven. "Alright then." He began, "I wasn't quite sixteen yet, so it would be just over two years before we met. School was out and Dad decided that the two of us were going on an expedition to Earth to find some relations of our tribe who still lived in the traditional way in our homeland…"

Seven gave him a sad, knowing look, "You were not eager to go?"

"No!" Chakotay exclaimed vehemently, "I'd just firmly decided to go to Starfleet Academy as soon as I'd graduated school, I hadn't said a word to father yet though, and I didn't see the point of going all the way to Earth to track down some backward looking group of recluses, Dorvan V was already old-fashioned enough for me!" He half-expected a reprimand from Seven for that, but she remained silent and intent, "Well, he eventually strong-armed me into coming along, but I was certainly the definition of a sullen teenager, sneaking PADDs along for the trek…"

Seven shot him an incredulous frown, "With the reality of the rainforest around you? That does not sound like you…"

"Well, I wasn't in the mood for nature appreciation, with the heat and the wet and the bugs!" Chakotay defended himself before adding in a smaller voice, "…and Dad's lectures. We were wandering around with no sign of these Rubber People, but he kept insisting they were there and I got so frustrated…"

"And so what happened?" Seven prodded him gently.

"I…I told him that I wanted to go home, that there was no point in me being there because I wasn't going to be like him. I was going to be a Starfleet officer. He wasn't even truly angry then, that came later when I persisted, just confused and…hurt, anxious. That was the first time he told me that if I abandoned my people for Starfleet, and never found acceptance there either, that I could find myself trapped between the two worlds, neither one or the other…" He shuddered violently, sickness knotting his gut as the words echoed harshly through his head like a prophecy.

Seven gave a small gasp, quickly taking his face in her hands and guiding his head down into her lap, stroking his hair until his stricken breathing had steadied. "That doesn't explain the tattoo." She murmured, absently tracing the said tattoo's distinctive pattern with her fingers.

Chakotay heaved a breath, a tight smile twisting his lips. "No, I guess it doesn't." He admitted, "The tattoo…during this argument our guide interrupted us, said he'd found the Rubber Tree People, and he had. Dad was overjoyed, though I think it was tempered by what we'd said. Really, they were as amazing as my father had said, I just didn't admit it completely at the time. When they decided to honour us by giving us the tattoo, I agreed to have it done, the old-fashioned way, along with my father. I…I think I did it to prove to him that I _could _be both a Starfleet officer and still one of our people too…" He closed his eyes, unable to say more, and was glad when Seven just let him sit like that for a few minutes, but when his eyes opened gain he found himself staring up at the stars again. "What are we doing here? Trying to survive long enough to get home…I want to _live_…"

Seven looked down at him contemplatively, her hands moving off his face, "Isn't that what we're doing now, living?"

Chakotay smiled at her gratefully, "Yes, we are." He agreed, "I love you Seven."

"And I you." Seven whispered fervently.

Chakotay relaxed again, now looking up at the stars objectively, "Do you know these constellations?"

Seven nodded briskly, "Of course. The one in the far left corner is stellar grouping 75093.8, to its right is 24812.6…"

Chakotay sat up and shook his head at her, "I didn't mean their Borg designations Seven, I meant their names. Didn't Dad tell you them? He used to drill them into me as a child…"

"He instructed me on the names of the stars visible from Dorvan V, but what reason would he have to teach me those visible from Earth? I only visited there with him once and not for educational purposes…"

"That makes sense I suppose." Chakotay replied with another shake of his head before flashing her a determined smile, "When we get back to Earth I'll point out and name all the constellations I know for you."

Seven gave a relieved nod, glad that his spirits and sense of hope were restored, "I look forward to it." She assured him softly, leaning forward to give him a kiss which he quickly deepened, tugging her close when she wrapped her arms around his neck to fully reciprocate.

Chakotay cupped her cheek to hold her gaze as they broke apart for air, "What was wrong yesterday hmm?" He asked gently, "You've had to fight off my demons tonight."

Seven blinked back easy, loving tears as she pressed her cheek into his hand, "It doesn't matter anymore." She murmured with sudden certainty, taking his chin in hand to kiss him deeply.

Chakotay pushed back to intensify the kiss, supporting her weight as she arched back. "How about why you were late then? Another problem down in Engineering?"

A deep blush immediately diffused Seven's already passion heated face, "No, not this time." She rubbed awkwardly at her eyes, "It was a problem…with makeup."

"With makeup?" Chakotay repeated, a smile pulling at his lips, but when he saw how embarrassed she was he forced seriousness. He'd hadn't noticed before, but her lipstick was maybe a little too starkly red, awkwardly applied, but maybe that was just the smudging from their kisses. She _did _have bit of a panda eyes look from smeared mascara, making her blue eyes look particularly large and luminous, poignantly emphasising the youth in her face. He actually found these imperfections endearing, even reassuring. He ran one thumb thoughtfully along the edge of her lips, the other at the corner of her eye, "You've done well with it sweetheart, you look beautiful as always. I wouldn't worry about makeup, you don't need it, and anyway it's not something I notice." He murmured kindly.

Seven lowered her eyes as she shifted to straddle him, "Then what do you notice?" she whispered in a low tone, giving him a flicker of a teasing smile as she felt him tense.

"Everything…" Chakotay replied breathlessly, "Everything that I love about you." When she kissed him then, he lost control and pressed her into the ground below him.

The fear and nerves that had always frozen Seven before had now faded almost entirely into the background. In fact she wondered if she never felt so relaxed as she accepted his caresses completely and let herself respond eagerly in kind. "Show me." She whispered softly, melting for an instant as his eyes met hers piercingly for a moment before looking away. "Chakotay…" She began worriedly as he stilled above her.

"Shh…" Chakotay murmured quietly as in two smooth movements he'd stood up and then swept her up easily into his arms, bridal style, chuckling as she gasped but cuddling her to him reassuringly. "Computer, deactivate programme and…initiate site to site transport."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! ;) **


	67. Afterburn

**A/n: I'm sorry for going AWOL for a couple of weeks there, I had to put all of my writing efforts into end of term essays, sigh. The good thing is they're all finished now and I'm back home for Christmas so I can devote myself to fanfic and be guilt free! ;)**

As Seven slowly began to wake, still a novelty for the girl used to the instantaneous, rousing jolt of a regeneration cycle's end, her optical implant pierced the quiet, insulting darkness to absorb the details of Chakotay's bedroom with a green tinted clarity. She blinked once as her internal chronometer obligingly reported the time, 0639 hours, and her memory of the ship's shift rota told her that the morning Alpha shift was now underway. Thankfully, Chakotay had excused them both from that before their date had even begun the night before. Foresight indeed.

Her eyes followed her thoughts and focused in on Chakotay. This morning he wasn't spooned up behind her but instead facing her; she remembered wanting to keep looking into his eyes even as sleep finally claimed them both for good. All of her muscles felt pleasantly, comfortably heavy; it was as if her body had found a new level of relaxation, yet awareness at the same time. Her warmed skin had been sensitised, tingling even if it were just within touching distance of him as well as where his hands had actually settled. Their legs were intertwined, but unfortunately now that she was awake she could feel the circulation to the human parts of her right leg being slowly cut off by the weight of one of his limbs and reluctantly had to extricate herself from that part of their embrace. She held her breath as she freed herself, Chakotay's muffled groan ringing in her ears, but he wasn't ready to wake yet, his hand tightening for an instant around the curve of her hip, she noticed his touch didn't withdraw from the prominent implant protruding from the joint, before he settled back to sleep with a sigh. Seven unconsciously echoed him as she watched his chest rise and fall, almost brushing against hers. She began to trail one finger lazily over the contours of his muscles but soon shifted upwards to take his face tentatively in her hands. He looked better. The tension lines she'd seen the night before as he'd confided in her had all but disappeared, he was vulnerable in a different way in sleep of course, but right now he had a smile on his face. Much of the vulnerability, no, fear, _she'd _felt had faded away into nothing. The knot of apprehension that had held back her desire had been utterly undone, made irrelevant, by Chakotay throughout the night. She grimaced now when she thought of just how much she'd let Seska's jibes get under her skin, though she understood the other woman's motives better now that she understood the root of the jealousy. How had she been able to doubt Chakotay's ability to be understanding and gentle, as well as her own ability and desire to express her love for him?

As if he were able to read her mind, Chakotay began to stir and Seven self-consciously pulled her hands back from his face, but he checked that shy impulse by lightly grasping her wrists with lightning speed, holding her hands in place on his face. "Hey." He murmured as he turned to gently kiss the silky skin of the inside of her right wrist. A smile pulled at his lips as he felt her shiver, and he let it widen reassuringly as he met her wide-eyed gaze. Impulsively, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply, deliberately keeping it teasingly slow until he heard her moan. He flipped onto his back as she broke the kiss with a small, blushing smirk, and coiled his arm around her to press her into his side.

Seven made herself comfortable laying her head on his chest as she cuddled into him again, smiling to herself in satisfaction when she felt his heart rate quicken below her ear in response, but soon they both settled down without needing to speak. She splayed one hand over his stomach protectively, his old scar from the incident at Terok Din, which she'd become tearful at first sight of the night before until Chakotay comforted her, just about visible peeking out under the duvet. For his part, Chakotay continually threaded his fingers through her hair, often pausing to follow the metal curve of her optical implant with his thumb. They lay like that until a loud grumbling gurgle interrupted their peace.

"Charming." Seven remarked drily, teasingly moving her head downwards to listen closer to his offending stomach.

Chakotay chuckled sheepishly as his hunger continued to make itself audible. "Sorry."

Seven lifted her head, frowning now. "I suppose we…forgot about the dinner that was designated as part of our date…" She began uneasily, upset at the idea of her own thoughtlessness.

Chakotay heard the guilt building in her tone and firmly cut in. "Hey, remember we had better things to be doing." He reminded her significantly, "We can eat now."

"Yes." Seven agreed to both statements with a small blush, her embarrassment nonetheless overtaken by the realisation of her own ravenous appetite.

Chakotay grinned at her as an idea occurred to him, "How about breakfast in bed then?"

Seven's nose crinkled in blatant distaste, as he'd suspected it would. "Eat in the bed? That cannot be considered good manners, or hygienic for that matter…"

Chakotay rolled his eyes at her a little as he started to swing himself out of bed, "Live a little Seven, be daring!"

Seven laughed at his tone, while mentally conceding that since the bed-linen would need to go in the refresher anyway, it wasn't a big issue. "As you wish."

"How about pancakes with strawberries and cream?" Chakotay suggested knowingly, "I know that was your treat to yourself back home…"

Seven sighed as she glanced over his shoulder at the darkened replicator in the wall. "Power available to the replicator system is limited remember? The last of the repairs to secondary systems should be underway at the moment but…"

"We're still on restricted rations." Chakotay dully finished for her, "Vacuum packed oatmeal in bed it is then."

"Unfortunately." Seven confirmed as she sat up, wrapping the duvet tighter around herself as heat left the bed with Chakotay. "I did suggest re-routing power from the holodecks to provide full power supply to the replicators and other similar systems, but the holodecks' power matrix is incompatible with the rest of the ship's systems. A short-sighted and inefficient flaw in Voyager's design, but one I am quite glad of now." She admitted in a quiet voice.

Chakotay returned to the bed, the quest for breakfast forgotten, as he leaned across to take her hands. "It was definitely the best date I've ever had." He told her softly.

Seven nodded, glad when her loose hair fell forward to disguise her horribly metal-mottled shoulders. "As it was mine, but then I've only ever attended that one date." She replied with upturned lips even as her eyes remained directed downwards, "And you also discovered a new transporter protocol."

"So I did. I'm not sure Starfleet would fully approve, but it was worth it." Chakotay answered with a thoughtful smile of his own as he lifted her hair off her shoulders again, rubbing his other hand up and down her Borg arm as he looked apprehensively into her eyes, "Are you okay?" he murmured seriously, swallowing slightly. "You'd tell me if I hurt you wouldn't…"

Seven stopped him by kissing him tenderly on the lips, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders to bring him closer as she considered how to reassure him, though she wasn't sure she could express the new certainty she had. "You could never really hurt me, not like that…not by loving me." She whispered. Even when he looked at her, implants and all, she believed that now. It was almost as if he couldn't see the implants or anything else that was inhuman in her nature, like he said last night, he saw what and who he loved, nothing else mattered.

Chakotay's arms curled around her frame, tilting her backwards as he began to kiss her in earnest. "You trust me?"

"You know that I do." Seven answered, gasping as he pressed his head against her body, breathing hard.

As if on cue however, Chakotay's comm. badge bleeped from where it had been discarded on one of the bedside tables. Chakotay felt Seven stiffen, and huffed an agitated groan, "Let's ignore it Seven…please."

"That is not very professional." Seven reprimanded him, albeit only half-heartedly as she nipped his ear.

"If you care about being professional right now then there's something I'm not doing right…" Chakotay retorted under his breath.

Seven started to deny that pleadingly, but the distinctive timbre of Tuvok's voice echoing from the comm. badge interrupted her. "Tuvok to Commander Chakotay."

"Damn it…" Chakotay grunted irritably, thwarted. "Ignoring _him_ will just give him more ammo against me." He muttered as he reached across from the comm. badge.

"Captain Janeway would not have offered you the First Officer position without Tuvok's support." Seven reminded him pointedly.

Chakotay grit his teeth, although he could see that Seven's point was more rational than his. "Maybe he agreed in principle…" He conceded, "…but that doesn't mean he'll support me in the practical sense." Finally finding the comm. badge, he opened his end of the link to answer, "Chakotay here Lieutenant."

"Commander please report to Sickbay immediately."

Chakotay instantly became professional enough to make Seven proud. "What happened? Was there an accident overnight?"

"No." Tuvok negated succinctly, "Lieutenant Carey was assaulted in Engineering by B'Elanna Torres."

Chakotay heard Seven inhale sharply and felt a sense of his own dread settle on him. "I'll be right there. Seven of Nine will join me, since she's been supervising Engineering."

"Understood." Tuvok replied blandly before the comm. link clicked off again.

Seven was already scrambling out of bed, frustrated when the only article of her clothing she could spot was her black dress crumpled on the floor. She couldn't wear that to help deal with this! "I should have gone down to Engineering at 0600 hours when the new shift started. I knew they were both on duty…" She chastised herself.

"It's not your job to babysit them Seven; you're not either one's keeper." Chakotay replied hotly as he pulled on his uniform trousers, pausing to pull the spare uniform Seven kept in his quarters out of a drawer and tossing it to her. "You've been spending far too much time in Engineering as it is."

"It has been necessary." Seven assured him in a brittle voice as she hastily decided that her fancy strapless black bra would need to be fine under her uniform for the moment, "They are intimidated by me and thus can be kept in line…"

Chakotay snorted as he shot her a sidelong look, "I hate to break this to you Seven but B'Elanna's never been intimidated by you, not to that extent at least."

"I know, but she knows Lieutenant Carey is and finds that amusing, using it to her advantage."

"Really?" Chakotay muttered, far from amused himself, as he finished dressing in record time. "Let's go see what their deal is this morning then…"

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I was going to continue this chapter right up to the point where Chakotay confronts B'Elanna, but since I've not decided whether to follow 'Parallax' verbatim as yet (it's such a mind bending episode, and I've re-watched it twice recently, sigh) that'll wait until the next chapter and by then I'll have hopefully decided whether Voyager should get trapped in that anomaly or not. **


	68. In Parallel, In Conflict

**A/n: I've read that apparently in canon there's **_**two months **_**between 'Caretaker' and 'Parallax'. Since I find the idea that they went without deciding on a Chief Engineer for that long really ridiculous (especially since they didn't have Seven serving as interim Chief as in this story) I'm firmly sticking with this AU timeline that it's only been a few days. **

Chakotay grimaced as his entry into Sickbay was heralded by Lieutenant Carey's agitated groans of pain, but nonetheless felt a modicum of relief when he saw that Tuvok was alone at the man's bedside, except of course for the EMH occasionally sweeping down on Carey with a medical tricoder or dermal regenerator. "At least he didn't wake the Captain to come down on B'Elanna…" He muttered into Seven's ear as she followed him inside and stood at his shoulder.

Seven responded to the comment with a long, careful look, one of warning and reproof, before walking further into the room. She sensed that analysing this confrontation with a similar attitude, even if Chakotay was right to be defensive, would only inflame the situation. Her enhanced hearing caught his small sigh behind her before he moved to join her at the foot of Carey's biobed.

"What are his injuries?" Chakotay asked the Doctor, barely managing to catch the hologram's eye; his programme seemed very dismissive of those who were not in need of medical attention. Good for triage maybe, but not so great being a reassuring presence. Carey looked worse than he'd anticipated, though the Doctor was making quick work of the bruises that had rippled out from B'Elanna's apparent punch, his nose was still at that awkward angle Chakotay associated with his own Academy boxing bouts, and trails of blood from each nostril had trickled right down to his chin.

"His nose is fractured in three places." The Doctor reported smoothly, continuing on without hesitation even as Carey responded to his manipulation of the injury with an angry yelp, "If he'd been hit any harder, the bone fragments would've embedded themselves in his brain." He clicked his tricorder off, "As it is, he'll be fine. I'll have him treated and ready for duty again within the hour."

"I'm not going back down there until that crazy Klingon woman is locked out of Engineering for good!" Carey ground out as he started to sit up, still holding his now healed nose.

"By 'crazy Klingon woman' I take it you mean B'Elanna Torres?" Chakotay questioned, unable to keep the sardonic undertone from his voice completely as he clenched his hands to resist the urge to run an exasperated hand through his hair.

"Who else?" Carey scoffed in a brittle tone, regarding Chakotay through narrowed eyes.

"Lieutenant, please recount what happened in Engineering for the Commander as you did for me." Tuvok requested, skilfully redirecting Carey's attention back to the facts.

Carey put a strained hand to his own furrowed brow. "Of course Lieutenant." He agreed, taking a deep breath before sitting up fully, "We were running a diagnostic of the power grid this morning, to double check all of the repairs, when Torres suggested that we reroute a few of the conduits through the warp plasma manifolds to boost the aft nacelle shielding we've had trouble calibrating. I told her that would blow out the entire network but she wouldn't listen…"

"Because you were perhaps being overcautious." Seven informed him, "The grid can handle a certain number of such medications, although it would need to be monitored and the margin of risk would not be quite within Starfleet's usual parameters for the system."

Carey nodded slowly as he watched her warily, "Well, maybe you could've found some way to handle it Lieutenant, with your Borg voodoo…" He conceded quietly, wisely cutting the comment off when he saw a muscle jump in Chakotay's jaw, although Seven of Nine herself remained completely nonchalant. It was hard to tell with her though, at least with Tuvok you knew he was thinking along the parameters of logic, but with this girl, no matter how pseudo-human she looked now, he just couldn't tell where the Borg drone ended and the young woman began. "But I was trained to follow those Starfleet parameters, and I'm going to stick by them, no matter what B'Elanna Torres says about it. How can you expect a hothead like that to make a judgement call that could affect the whole ship? She punched me in the face over nothing!"

"Did Torres say anything to you following the assault Lieutenant?" Tuvok queried.

Carey made a face, "She said: 'Sorry, maybe you should go to Sickbay'!" he mimicked with irate sarcasm.

"At least she gave you some good advice." The Doctor remarked drily as he handed Carey sterile wipes to wipe the blood from his face.

"Her punishment must still be appropriate Doctor, as I assure you it will be Mr Carey." Tuvok said seriously as he started to turn away from the biobed, the PADD carrying Carey's written testimony in hand.

"Yes, it should definitely be _appropriate_." Chakotay echoed significantly as he moved to follow Tuvok out into the corridor, Seven keeping pace behind them both.

"I don't care about the rest of the punishment as long as she's kept out of my engine room!" Carey called after them, "She has no place in Engineering!"

* * *

><p>The three of them had walked half the length of the deck before Chakotay broke the tense silence. "What do you suggest we do Lieutenant Tuvok?"<p>

"I can see no logical course of action Commander other than what is dictated by Starfleet legal protocol." Tuvok replied without pausing in his stride, "Miss Torres will be confined to the Brig until her court martial can be heard and the outcome decided."

"Court martial?" Chakotay repeated incredulously, "Tuvok, do I have to remind you that we're over 70,000 light-years from the nearest branch of a Federation court?"

Tuvok arched a sculpted eyebrow at him, "And I should not have to remind you Commander that in our situation, the Captain has full legal authority."

"It would be irrational to limit one crewmember's duties to such an extent for seventy years when we are so few in number." Seven pointed out coolly, her expression carefully neutral despite her note of disapproval and the fact that beside her she could see Chakotay's ire building.

"It's more than irrational, it's impossible." Chakotay said hotly with a firm shake of his head, "We're just going to have to accept that some Starfleet regs don't stand up in our current situation."

"Commander, you came to an agreement with the Captain that Voyager would be a Starfleet ship, manned by a Starfleet crew." Tuvok reminded him sharply, "That vow should not be reneged upon…"

"That's not what I'm saying!" Chakotay replied, almost in a snap, before his voice dropped an octave, "What I _am _saying is that B'Elanna is a Maquis and in the Maquis sometimes you needed to break a few noses to get things done. I'll deal with her and make sure she understands that things have changed…"

"Yes." Tuvok interrupted, studying Chakotay intently as they reached the turbolift, "Because she is no longer on a Maquis ship, and neither are you Commander."

Chakotay's jaw clenched for a split second at the not so subtle rebuke, feeling as if he'd been slapped, but quickly controlled himself as he met the Vulcan's impenetrable gaze, "I'm well aware of that Lieutenant, and I'm making you aware that I'm going to deal with Torres and report this incident to the Captain myself. Is that understood?"

Tuvok didn't blink. "Perfectly Commander." Moving aside to allow Seven to follow Chakotay into the turbolift, he'd disappeared out of sight before the doors had closed behind her.

Chakotay could feel Seven's unwavering eyes on him as he stared at his feet and gripped at the turbolift's smooth interior walls as he struggled to calm himself, finally saying, "Which deck are B'Elanna's quarters on?"

"Deck Three." Seven answered simply, now staring straight ahead.

"Oh right, we dropped Lucky off there last night…" Chakotay muttered faintly as the memory returned to him, "Computer, Deck Three."

Even with Seven, an uneasy silence reigned as the turbolift moved them up and deposited them on Deck Three to start their walk towards B'Elanna's quarters, but they were almost immediately halted by Seska and Jarvin's shouts for attention from behind as they approached their officers. Both quickly encircled Chakotay like excited vultures, "I heard that Maquis personnel have been locked out of primary systems…" Jarvin began fretfully.

Seska's voice was, typically, much more indignant, "…and that all the Maquis have been confined to quarters outside their duty shifts! Chakotay…"

Chakotay had tried to keep walking while we was enveloped in these rumours but he finally stopped and grasped Seska's shoulders to stop her mid-flow before letting go and taking Jarvin into his firm gaze, "None of that's true. You should stop listening to rumours."

"How can we after what's happened to B'Elanna?!" Seska retorted in a shrill whisper, regarding Chakotay with huge, pleading eyes, "Tuvok's going to put her in the Brig for the rest of our journey…"

"No, I'm dealing with that myself. It's out of Tuvok's hands." Chakotay assured them, though his frown deepened. The gossip on this ship went from ear to ear quicker than any comm. system could achieve.

Jarvin exhaled heavily, "Good…" He said in happy relief.

Seska shushed him with a wave of her hand, leaning in closer to Chakotay as the confidence he was familiar with and the mercenary canniness that put Seven on edge returned to her face, "Still…" She whispered, "We've been asking around and we're ready to back you."

Chakotay instinctively recoiled, much to Seven's relief, and stared at Seska and Jarvin blankly, "'Back me'? What the hell does that mean?"

Seska gave an exasperated sigh, one he recognised from when he'd either been unable or unwilling to play along with one of her games, "You know…" She shrugged as she eyed him speculatively, "…if you need to take the ship."

Chakotay's face paled even as he began to quiver with rage, disbelief, and even betrayal. "If I ever hear you talk that way again, I'll personally throw you in the Brig for mutiny!" he finally managed to snarl out hoarsely, disgust at them and himself filling him as he saw that they were genuinely surprised even as they read the writing on the wall and began to back away from him. So much for the fantasy that he'd recruited uniquely honourable people into his band of Maquis.

Seven took control then, looping her arm through his and forcing him by dint of her Borg strength to start to turn away with her. "I suggest you return to your assigned duties." She ordered the two offenders icily. Seska glared at her for that show of superiority, but followed the obsequious Jarvin in backing off; not that Seven cared by that point, since she was already marching Chakotay off down the corridor, his shaking frame pinning to her side as she waiting for his temper to burn out somewhat. When he relaxed and submitted to her hold, matching her stride without being half-dragged, she allowed herself to lace her fingers through his and give his hand a squeeze. Chakotay sighed in painful resignation as he returned the gesture then lifted her hand to lips, tracing them of the veins of cool metal embedded into her skin. "Do you still want to go to B'Elanna's quarters right now?" she asked him quietly.

Chakotay's stride slowed as he turned in to meet her gaze, his own eyes flashing. "What I _want _is to go back to bed with you and wipe this whole fiasco from my mind." He replied, his voice irritable and exhausted even as he slipped his arm free from hers and slipped it around her waist instead.

"But that will not help B'Elanna, nor satisfy Lieutenants Carey and Tuvok." Seven reminded him quietly.

"And it won't quell the apparently mutinous faction of the Maquis either." Chakotay added through gritted teeth, "For God's sake, I was really going to push for B'Elanna being made Chief of Engineering, which was going to be tough in the first place, but now Carey won't have her down there and the Captain will side with him, although I don't know how a man who can't handle one Klingon temper tantrum is supposed to lead a whole department…" He looked at Seven almost pleadingly, "You could make your role down there permanent you know, Janeway would agree that you're qualified…"

Seven shook her head, "I am not suited for the role of Chief Engineer, and you know that as well as I do." When she caught his raised eyebrow, after all she'd practically reprogrammed the seized Valjean to serve the Maquis all those years back, she elaborated, "I am not skilled in, and neither do I relish, leading and working with others to that extent. Engineering must work as a cohesive unit and my presence would disrupt that."

Chakotay knew she was underestimating herself, but he also knew her well enough to know when she was being sincere, and honestly the last thing Engineering needed was a Chief who was only obeyed out of awe and fear, the feelings he was clear-sighted enough to know Seven inspired until people grew accustomed to her mannerisms or she trusted them enough to reveal her softer side. She'd always worked best as a free agent, even on the Valjean, having a degree of autonomy within reason, and she wouldn't have that in the conformity of Engineering. "Do you think Carey or B'Elanna could establish a 'cohesive unit' down there?"

"They are both capable of it." Seven answered, "Carey would adapt to the role more easily at first, but he is too…rigid. B'Elanna is impressively innovative, she will adapt to the challenges the Delta Quadrant presents, the lack of a Starfleet framework will not disturb her."

Chakotay smiled at her, "Will you ever repeat this vote of confidence to B'Elanna?" he asked knowingly, "No, but you're right even if it stays between us. B'Elanna is the best engineer I've ever known, even counting you in a lot of respects, and there's no one else I'd trust to get this ship home in one piece."

Seven cocked her head at him slightly as she stopped in front of B'Elanna's door, "Then you must ensure that she is the one entrusted with that responsibility."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D Hopefully I'll be able to update a story again before Wednesday, but if I don't Merry Christmas to you all! **


	69. Justifiable Action

B'Elanna bristled, halting her pacing around her quarters abruptly, as she heard the obnoxious bleep of her doorbell behind her. A growl of frustration rasped up her throat as she glared down at the floor, the sound mutating into an enraged snarl as she saw that her knees were shaking. Before she knew it, she'd snatched up the plate she'd just cleared of her uneaten lunch and hurled it at the door with all of her Klingon-rage enhanced strength.

Unfortunately, the intruder, Chakotay, had started to enter through that same door just as the plate arched through the air with B'Elanna's battle cry echoing behind it. He was agile enough to swing his head away as he hastily sidestepped; behind him, with her superhuman reflexes, Seven of Nine was able to catch the plate with the tips of her fingers before it slammed into her. For B'Elanna, this scene played out in slow motion, the heated blood in her cheeks draining away as quickly as it had come as she stared at them in horror and shame. "Chakotay, I..." She began to stutter out as she took a stumbling step backwards, but as she finally took in his thunderous expression, which had obviously been brewing long before she'd mistakenly used him for target practice, she was set on edge, instantly defensive. "What's that?" she asked briskly, glancing at the PADD he held in a white-knuckled grip.

Chakotay pursed his lips tighter, his reply rolling around within his clenched jaw as he strode commandingly into the room, right into B'Elanna's face, before forcefully pressing the PADD into her hand. "The medical report on Lieutenant Carey." He finally answered in a terse, clipped tone.

B'Elanna's own fingers immediately clenched around the PADD upon hearing that, and she couldn't help but gulp slightly, hoping Chakotay hadn't seen the flicker of guilt as she gave the PADD a determinedly dismissive, cursory glance. Instead, she zeroed in on Seven, who having set the plate missile aside on a table, was clearing up the rest of the debris B'Elanna had fretfully strewn across the room. "I can clean up after myself." She assured the ex-Borg irritably.

Seven ignored the prickly comment, continuing on with what she was doing while ushering Lucky to her side. The dog, big and intimidating as he was, had been cowering in a corner during his sitter's tantrum. Chakotay, however, reacted, gripping B'Elanna's shoulder hard to make her meet his black gaze. "It doesn't look like you can from where I'm standing." He told her darkly, stabbing at the PADD with his finger, "You broke Carey's nose in three places, if you'd hit him just that bit harder, you would've driven the bone fragments into his cerebellum!"

B'Elanna's gaze was locked onto Chakotay's now as her mouth dropped open in disbelief before she hurriedly tried to recover, flinching away from him. "What?!" She made an odd, bark of laugh to cover up her gasp, "I didn't even come close to hitting him that hard…"

"So this is nothing to you?" Chakotay ground out, his whole body tensing like a provoked animal before he blew his last fuse and began to fume. "But on one side I've got a Vulcan wanting to throw you in the Brig for the next 75 years and on the other the Maquis are ready to seize this ship over this, you've turned this into one lousy day for me Torres!"

B'Elanna's breath caught in her chest, even as she met his anger with incredulity. "75 years in the Brig? You've always had a strange sense of humour Chakotay…"

"I'm completely serious." Chakotay answered in a low tone, "And I hope you take me seriously when I tell you to apologise to Carey…"

"_Apologise_?" B'Elanna repeated shrilly, her disbelief burned away by her old anger, "Lieutenant Carey is an _idiot_! When I tell you what…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Chakotay interrupted with an anger and authority that made B'Elanna instinctively shrink back and obey him, but he stayed right in her face, which was very unlike the reserved man she knew and respected. "You're going to apologise to him, face to face, over a hot cup of pajuta, _bond _with the man!" His yelling tone was almost as pleading as it was full of frustration.

B'Elanna couldn't help but regard him resentfully as her hands found a chair behind her and she sank into it, running an exasperated hand through her hair. "I've never needed to bond with _anyone _to get my job done…" She reminded him heatedly.

"Well, you'll have to start if you want to be Chief Engineer." Chakotay replied bluntly as he heaved a heavy sigh, "To be a good one you'll need to gain the trust of people like Carey."

B'Elanna blinked up at him, for the first time seeing the exhaustion lining his face that his anger had veiled from her. "But…" She started faintly, "Carey's the next in line…"

Chakotay ran a hand over his face, the other resting on his hip. "You're a better engineer than he is." He countered her frankly.

B'Elanna eyed him warily as he moved back towards the door, "Yeah, but…" She began in a dispirited tone, after all surely he knew as well as she did that Starfleet didn't work like that, but the conviction in his eyes as he turned back to her gave her pause. "What does the Captain have to say about this?"

"She hasn't said anything." Chakotay answered with cryptic honesty, pausing for a confusing second before tightly admitting, "Because I haven't told her yet." Before B'Elanna could process the ramifications of what he'd just said, he'd escaped out into the hallway, the door hissing shut behind him.

Seven's first impulse, having watched the entire scene, was to follow Chakotay, to placate and calm him again. He couldn't convince the Captain to respect his decision in a rational manner after such a confrontation. However, she also felt that she'd perhaps be more use to the 'cause' by reasoning with B'Elanna in a cooler manner. B'Elanna soon made the decision for her, having seen the muscles in Seven's legs jump to follow Chakotay before restraining herself to remain where she was, perhaps to give her the benefit of her Borg condescension. Honestly, the two of them were like a human with a dog on a leash, though it seems to change daily, depending on who you spoke to, whether it was Chakotay who pulled Seven along like a puppy or the other way around. B'Elanna had started to view them a bit differently since the upheaval of their marooning on Voyager however, when they'd been walking the same tightrope as everyone else but each while holding the hand of the other to guide them. If so, then their relationship was something both to be envious of, and to leave alone as a good thing in this mess. "Is he serious?" She asked Seven without beating around the bush.

Seven regarded her levelly, studying her intently from across the room. "Have you ever known Chakotay to be insincere about such things?"

"No…" B'Elanna admitted ruefully, even while feeling exasperating by Seven's probing habit of answering a question with a question. "But will he really risk it with the Captain, over me?" She pursed her lips, not liking how pathetic that sounded, and added sarcastically, "I half-expected him to wrangle you into Chief Engineer's spot…"

"If I were the one best suited to an engineer's position, Chakotay would've made me such on the Valjean as well as on Voyager." Seven cut in pointedly, her gaze cool and piercing as she crossed her arms over her chest.

B'Elanna couldn't help but be impressed with her frankness and apparent lack of ego even as her own ego accepted the little boost. "That's true." She admitted while giving Seven a nod of acknowledgement, "But still, I'm never going to be a Starfleet cut-out like Carey, like the Captain will want…"

"The Captain can no longer afford to judge her officers on anything other than ability and ingenuity, not here in the Delta Quadrant." Seven informed her, B'Elanna saw her face tighten, the impassive mask slipping uncharacteristically, and she wondered just how much danger Seven thought, knew, they were in here. "Chakotay believes you are the best engineer on the ship by those criteria…as do I." She saw B'Elanna's surprise when she conceded that but did not allow her to revel in it, her tone sharpening. "But if you are unwilling to take up the challenge of adapting your behaviour to this crews needs, then you will just need to adapt to serving under Lieutenant Carey's command instead."

B'Elanna bristled, though she strongly suspected Seven was provoking her on purpose, just as Chakotay had been, if with less subtlety. She decided to accept it with good grace, as a backhanded compliment. "I guess I'd rather spend these next 75 years as Chief Engineer than in the Brig for daily assault on Carey, because that's what it will become if I have to serve under him." She replied with a dry smirk.

Seven mirrored the expression. "If you require such motivation, then so be it." She concluded, letting go of Lucky's scruff so that he could approach B'Elanna.

B'Elanna gratefully rubbed behind the dog's ears, "Sorry I scared you boy." She mumbled in apology before glancing up at Seven thoughtfully, "So how'd it go last night, despite this morning wrecking Chakotay's mood?"

Seven gave a start, a blush dusting her cheeks even as her stance became even stricter. "Last night?"

B'Elanna shook her head slightly, trying not to laugh. "Don't be coy Seven, it doesn't suit you. I may not be officer material just yet but I'm not stupid. You never asked anyone to watch Lucky overnight before we came to Voyager, and that's ignoring the fact that Seska's sulking around like a targ that's been phasered in the ass."

Seven couldn't help the humour that was sparked in her eyes by that last comment and eyed B'Elanna warily for one last moment before dipping her gaze shyly, a sigh leaving her throat. "Last night went well enough that hopefully I will be able to calm Chakotay down before he meets with the Captain to discuss your appointment." She finally confided before calling Lucky back to her with a soft whistle before heading for the door herself.

"Good luck with that." B'Elanna said with a meaningful sincerity which Seven answered with a brisk nod of understanding before leaving the prospective Engineer alone to think things over.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D A bit of a rushed chapter I know, but the second chapter of 'Annika's Day' is proving to be slow to write and I wanted to update something. I hope it's believable. I also hope you all had a Merry Christmas! **


	70. MeetingClashing in the Middle

**A/n: I'm back! I can hardly believe this will be my first chapter of 2014, almost three weeks into January! I had to take time away to write end-of-term essays and study for exams, thinking about it I don't think I took a break this long even after my foot surgery, but I definitely did need the study time! I hope all you readers are still with me! **

After leaving B'Elanna's quarters, Seven reluctantly headed for Engineering, guessing that the department's efficiency had been decimated by gossip about the latest, explosive, stage of conflict between the two prospective chiefs. She hadn't lied to the other woman when she'd said that she intended to seek Chakotay out and attempt to cool his temper, but as she distanced herself from the heat of the immediate situation she began to doubt the wisdom of that plan. He had already had enough pressure exerted on him by Carey, Tuvok, and even B'Elanna as well as Seska and her ilk. No matter how well-intentioned she was, she couldn't be sure whether her intervention would elicit anything more than further frustration from him right now.

Her assumption that Engineering would be in disarray proved correct, which gave her the opportunity to bury her anxiety under the thankless job of reorganising priorities with all the diligence the task called for. By the time she'd assigned something to every crewmember present, there were actually people loitering there outside of their shifts in the apparent hope of seeing Carey and B'Elanna collide again, she'd began to cynically suspect that part of the two's motivation for their conflict was to alleviate their boredom and frustration; Seven could certainly empathise with that right now. Eventually, she escaped to the seclusion of a Jeffries Tube to complete the modifications that had caused the flare up in the first place, using B'Elanna's methods but with a cool reasoning that the cautious Carey might have been more inclined to approve of. It was in that confined, but secure, place that she felt able to make a discreet call up to the Bridge for Chakotay. Hearing his voice, back to it's normal smooth timbre after the sharp edges of just an hour before, made her relax instantly and she was sure he heard her exhale the breath she hadn't been aware of holding. As he told her that he'd been left in command of the Bridge while the Captain sorted out the details of that morning's briefing, scheduled for an hour's time, she started to hope that the break, with the rigour of regular duties wearing them down, had let everyone involved cool off. She had to restrain her expectations however; humans, Maquis leaders and Starfleet Captains in particular, were not known for their sense of detachment.

* * *

><p>Chakotay let Tom, Harry Kim and Tuvok all file past him into the main Briefing Room, although he saw the Captain, already sitting waiting at the head of the table, raise an enquiring eyebrow his way as he hang back at the doorway. He felt uncomfortable with Seven entering into this shark tank alone, but perhaps if he were honest with himself he didn't really want to start dealing with these people without Seven either. She rounded the corner just as he allowed himself a sigh, her blue eyes instantly riveting on him in concern as she approached. He smiled at her reassuringly, though he could see from her still furrowed brow that the smile must've been rather wan, and had to put his hand briefly onto the small of her back to propel her inside, using the touch to lever his own feet forward.<p>

The Captain stood up in one fluid, graceful movement that belied the crescents of shadow under her eyes and the stress lines around her thinly smiling lips as Chakotay and Seven took their seats, Chakotay to Janeway's right and Seven to his. "Now that we're all here, let's get started." She declared warmly, though to Seven's ears the statement was defunct. "Our most pressing issue seems to be power; we lost a lot of our deuterium stocks in the fight with the Kazon. How's the ship flying Tom?"

"We're managing to hold a steady warp 2 at the moment Captain, but if we don't conserve the power we have as well as find a new source of deuterium soon we'll have to get out and push." Tom answered, his grim eyes showing that he was only half joking.

Janeway leaned back in her chair to take in the faces of the small group around her, "Did you have any luck re-routing power from the holodecks to supply the secondary systems Ensign?" she asked Harry.

"None Captain. The holodeck power systems are just too incompatible with those on the rest of the ship." Harry replied swiftly. His tone was crisp and professional, but the disappointment was painfully evident on his young, open face.

"Have any solutions been suggested in Engineering Seven of Nine? I know it's been difficult down there…" The Captain began, turning her probing gaze on Seven.

"Engineering has been operating as efficiently as can be expected Captain." Seven cut in, "Repairs have been progressing on schedule, the problem with the aft shielding has been corrected so there is no longer a hole in the ship's defences…" Recognising the problem B'Elanna and Carey had come to blows over, both Chakotay and Tuvok glanced at her sharply, but she pressed on, "…but as for the power shortages, there is little more than can be done without additional fuel. However, I do have suggestions for which systems can be reduced to minimal output, as well as maps of where we may find deuterium." She handed two PADDs to the Captain, who grasped them eagerly.

"Good, keep looking." She told Seven before lifting another PADD of her own, "Now we need to discuss the personnel situation. We've already found a replacement for the Transporter Chief, but we still…"

Neelix's distinctively cheery, booming voice jarred with Janeway's serious tone as he, followed dutifully by his doe-eyed Kes, suddenly barrelled into the room. "Good morning! We're sorry we're late, but we weren't informed there was a meeting this morning." He peered expectantly around the table, "Oh, there doesn't seem to be enough chairs…"

Janeway's lip curled in for a moment as she took a breath before meeting Neelix's gaze. "Neelix, this is a briefing for the _senior _officers…" She began in a tactful, but brisk, tone.

Neelix's amber eyes blinked only once before he had an answer. "I am the _senior _Talaxian on board, and Kes is the _senior _Ocampa." He pointed out to the Captain patiently. Obviously being on Voyager hadn't made him abandon the opportunistic boldness that had guided his life so far.

Seeing, as the gazes around her dipped, that she'd been outmanoeuvred, the Captain slowly nodded her head. "That's true…" She conceded, "You can stay, for _this_ meeting."

Neelix gave her a toothy grin, "Thank you Captain." He said graciously, with a half-bow as added flourish.

"Here you go." Tom quickly rose from his own chair and offered it chivalrously to Kes, who smiled at him sweetly at she sat down obediently.

Neelix stiffened a little at that, but was soon leaning comfortably on Kes' chair as no one moved to accommodate him. Kes, sensing now that their entrance had been unexpected and even rude, softly spoke up. "Captain, we couldn't help overhearing that you're having a problem with your power supply. I was thinking…" She trailed off uncertainly until the Captain smiled at her encouragingly, "…that you could establish a Hydroponics Bay, to grow your own food."

"Ah yes, there's nothing like fresh veggies, although I must say your 'replicators' are quite extraordinary!" Neelix exclaimed, "I'm the perfect chef to cook them, and as for your mineral needs, look no further than your resident _senior _Talaxian, I have contacts in every trading post and mining operation in this sector!"

"That certainly sounds useful Neelix, we'll be glad of your expertise." The Captain said smoothly, "Kes, I'd like you to get started on the Hydroponics Bay as soon as you can."

Kes' orb like eyes widened in surprise, "Me Captain?"

"It's your idea." Janeway reminded her gently.

"Either Cargo Bay could be suitable Captain, since they're regulated by the environmental systems." Harry suggested.

"Cargo Bay 1 has the most capacity at the moment, and is more contained." Seven elaborated, "The Borg have knowledge of certain agricultural techniques which could increase yield."

Harry stared at her blankly, "I thought the Borg didn't eat?"

"They don't." Seven assured him bluntly, "But the Collective has assimilated knowledge and technology from species which are highly skilled in that area."

Chakotay smiled ruefully at Seven, "I remember you trying to convince my father and the other tribal elders to accept some of your improvements…"

Seeing Seven return the knowing smile somewhat sheepishly, the Captain's interest was piqued. "And did they? Accept some of your improvements I mean?"

Chakotay shook his head, "Oh no, they were very old-school…" He looked over at Seven affectionately, "Much to our chagrin."

Seven lowered her gaze and said in a more respectful tone, "The people of Dorvan V valued their traditions very highly."

Neither of them particularly registered their Captain's surprise, who couldn't help thinking that she'd have liked to meet the traditional people who'd both raised a man who bucked convention and embraced the girl with technology embedded in her psyche as well as her body. "Well, if you think that your…expertise from the Collective can help, then you should work with Kes to build her Hydroponics Bay in Cargo Bay 1."

Seven gave a start upon hearing that order, "Work with…" She eyed the Ocampa girl warily, and everyone could see her tensing in her seat before Chakotay elbowed her lightly in the ribs. "Of course." She conceded tightly, "The Ocampa are advanced in pursuing agriculture in artificial environments…and other things besides."

Kes' ears pricked up curiously at that, Seven of Nine seemed to know a great deal about her people, maybe about what they'd managed to achieve before the Caretaker intervened! "I'd appreciate your help Seven." She replied graciously.

"That's settled then." Janeway concluded, ready to move on. "As I was saying, we have a Transporter Chief but we still need a Chief Medical Officer, a Chief Engineer…"

"What about that…holographic fellow down in Sickbay? Isn't he a doctor?" Neelix queried.

"It's not designed to be a permanent facility, and it's confined to Sickbay." Harry explained.

"Not to mention that it has a lousy bedside manner." Tom muttered.

"But Neelix is right." Janeway admitted with a sigh, "The EMH is the closest thing we have to a qualified doctor on board."

"What if we trained someone to help outside Sickbay, a field medic?" Chakotay suggested thoughtfully.

"Good idea Commander." Janeway immediately agreed, before laying speculative eyes on her comm. officer. "You studied biochemistry at the Academy didn't you Lieutenant?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his chair, for once acting the shrinking violet. "Only two semesters…"

"Good enough, report to Sickbay to train as Voyager's new field medic." Janeway ordered firmly but with a slight smile. "Now, we still have the other vacancies. I don't think Seven of Nine wants to forego Science for Engineering…"

"No Captain." Seven assured her firmly.

Chakotay pressed a PADD into his Captain's hand, "I've made up a list of Maquis crewmembers who I think would be suitable for senior positions."

"Thank you Commander…" Janeway said distractedly as she read down the list, almost dropped the PADD when her eyes fell on one name. "B'Elanna Torres? She was the one involved in that incident with Mr Carey." Chakotay grimaced, obviously Tuvok _had _informed the Captain. Janeway slowly put the PADD down on the table, peering at Chakotay with a dubious combination of disbelief and curiosity. "Which position do you think she's suited for exactly?" She asked, in the tone of a mother trying to indulge a small child.

Chakotay met her gaze respectfully, but with steel in his own eyes. "Chief Engineer." He answered without hesitation.

Janeway's face went white with shock, staring at Chakotay as if her Universal Translator had failed and he was speaking a foreign language. Just as her lips parted to respond however, with no idea of what exactly she could say, the bleep of a comm. badge broke the stand-off. "Rollins to Seven of Nine."

Lieutenant Rollins was currently in command of the Bridge, not Engineering, so the Captain was left bemused and irritated on yet another level as Seven tapped her badge without hesitation. "Yes Lieutenant?"

"You told me to inform you immediately if we caught any unknown phenomenon on the sensors ma'am, and we just have."

"Thank you for following my request Lieutenant, I am on my way." Seven told him smoothly, standing to leave, but the Captain stopped her in her tracks.

"This isn't standard procedure Lieutenant Hansen." Seven flinched at the use of her birth name and she could see that everyone else in the room, except Chakotay of course, was confused by the reference. "You don't have the right to decide how we deploy our resources, including sensors. Why did you give that order to Rollins?"

"Because we are not in standard Federation space." Seven reminded her icily, "I'd prefer to be able to use my knowledge from the Collective so that we can avoid dangerous regions rather than 'explore' it blindly."

Janeway's jaw locked as her rationale, and her jibe at Starfleet, sank in. "That's ultimately my responsibility." She held Seven's cold, distrustful gaze for a second before waving towards the room's sole monitor. "Put the data from the sensors up there."

Seven replied with a sharp nod, and moved swiftly to the console, her face visibly paling as she looked at the screen, which was enough to make alarm bells go off in Janeway's head. She too moved towards the console, "It's a nebula." She murmured, "There shouldn't be any danger."

"Perhaps not, but this may be a unique nebula: Spacial Anomaly 8093." Seven replied anxiously, moving back towards the doorway to head for the Bridge, but as she did so the ship lurched violently, almost throwing Seven against the table as Janeway and Harry both collided with the wall by the console.

"Alright." Janeway conceded, looking chastened and guilty for a moment before assuming her usual commanding demeanour. "Maybe we should go and check this out. Report to the Bridge."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I know Hydroponics was supposedly in Cargo Bay 2 in the episode, but since I never saw that Seven's alcove was in with plants, I'll assume that the writers moved things around at some point so I'll just make it clear now. I think they called it 'Aeroponics' on the shows sometimes too, but Memory Alpha said Hydroponics. Thank you to NikkiB1973 for posting an amazing seventh chapter of 'Shining Star', if you didn't already read it to get your C/7 fix while I was gone, read it now! **


	71. Ranks Apart

"Report!" Janeway ordered breathlessly as she felt the Bridge's floor roll beneath her feet. She had to hold out her hands and grasp the sensor console Ensign Seska was manning just to stay upright.

Seska helpfully grasped her elbow to help steady her as she read off her console's data with wide eyes. "We're running into some sort of spatial distortion!"

Seeing that the Bajoran woman could throw no more light on the situation, Janeway looked desperately over her shoulder towards the main line of consoles curving around the Bridge and locked eyes with Tuvok. "Mr Tuvok?"

"There's a disturbance in the space-time continuum…" Tuvok clarified, one arm slung around his console for support but with his whole attention focused on the readings, "20,000 kilometres off the port bow…"

Janeway inhaled sharply, turning on her heel to face Tom at comm. before another jolt left her clinging to the console again like a life raft. "All stop!" She allowed herself a few, slower, steadier breaths as Tom succeeded in bringing the ship to a shuddering halt, waiting until some colour had returned to the faces of her senior officers as well as her own before she made her way swiftly to the anchor of her chair. "On screen." She felt the familiar feelings of awe pulling at her lips as she recognised the slit in space yawning open in front of them, causing ripples of colour to seep into the usual black space. "Gravimetric flux density is over 2000%." She reported as she glanced down at her own personal console. "If I'm right, we're looking at a type-4 quantum singularity." She twisted in her chair to meet Seven of Nine's unreadable gaze, "Does your original guess pan out Lieutenant? Are we looking at a…Spatial Anomaly…"

"Spatial Anomaly 8093." Seven filled in, "…and yes, I believe we are Captain." She moved purposefully to her newly assigned console next to Harry Kim's as Chakotay cautiously moved to take his proper position at the Captain's side.

"What makes '8093' different, any more threatening than any of the type-4 singularities Starfleet has observed in the Alpha Quadrant?" The Captain asked thoughtfully, staring hard at Seven.

The ex-drone, predictably, did not flinch under her scrutiny. "As you know perfectly well Captain, although such anomalies can be categorised, each one is unique and many are highly dangerous."

"But you seemed particularly wary of this one Seven." Chakotay remarked, holding her gaze meaningfully as he did so, now was not the time to be showing the Captain any sass if Voyager really was in serious danger.

"I have good reason to be wary." Seven replied coolly, "When a Borg Sphere encountered this anomaly 11.8 years ago its link with the Collective was severed almost immediately."

"That could be because of the distortions in the space-time continuum…" Janeway broke in.

"We came to that conclusion." Seven informed her, "Before we lost the link it was ascertained that both the Sphere's trans-warp and conventional warp engines had ceased to function. I suggest we leave before the same phenomenon has a similar effect on Voyager."

Before the Captain could issue a reply to that, Tuvok interrupted, "Captain, I'm picking up a comm. signal from inside the singularity."

Harry's face paled, "Is it the Borg Sphere?" he asked shakily.

"The odds of that are rather low, don't you think Ensign?" Janeway chided him softly before turning back to Tuvok, "Let's hear it Lieutenant."

The click of Tuvok broadcasting the signal was almost immediately drowned out by a painful sound that made almost everyone's head ache as they tried to make heads or tails of it. It was at least evident that it had once been a voice, but the singularity had unravelled the vocal pattern so completely before spitting it out that they couldn't make out a word of it.

"Captain, I think I've found the source of the transmission." Harry Kim spoke up.

"Show us Ensign." Janeway ordered him hastily, taking a deep breath as the viewscreen obligingly tightened in on a corner of the image of the singularity. It was certainly a ship, but the image was so distorted it looked to her eyes little more than a stretched and flattened silver disc. "Does it look like any ships you're familiar with Neelix?"

Neelix shook his head slowly as his orange eyes squinted intently at the screen. "No…nothing I recognise, but then it's so hard to make out."

"They could be trapped in the event horizon." Janeway concluded tersely, turning her concerned eyes on Tuvok once more, "Open a channel Lieutenant." She automatically stood up to speak as Tuvok gave her a nod, "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway to the vessel near the quantum singularity, do you need help?"

"Captain, even if they do require assistance we will most likely be unable to offer it to them." Seven intervened.

Janeway frowned at her uneasily, "Why do you say that?" she questioned as neutrally as she could.

"Because there is little we could do to free them, if anything, that wouldn't risk this ship also becoming trapped in the event horizon." Seven explained tersely.

"Captain, there has been no response to our hail." Tuvok informed her, his stoic words layering over Seven's doubts.

Janeway's lips curled in as she stared at Seven's exasperatingly detached face for a split second longer before letting her eyes sweep over the rest of her crew in search of the solution she wanted. "Could we use a tractor beam?"

"There's too much sub-space interference." Harry answered grimly.

"Captain…" Neelix began, leaving Kes' side to approach his new leader, "We're about three light-years from Ilidaria, they're technologically advanced and quite friendly…most of the time. We could contact them for help…"

Janeway crossed her arms over her chest as her eyes settled on the distant ship once again, "No. They're being pulled closer to the singularity, we have to get it out of the event horizon…"

The click of Chakotay activating his comm. badge beside her made her jump, "Bridge to Torres." Chakotay hailed, "We need a way to get that ship out of there. Any ideas?"

"I was thinking we could remodulate the tractor beam to match the sub-space interference. It might be enough to cut through the event horizon."

"A sub-space tractor beam?"

He could hear B'Elanna smiling in approval as she answered, "Exactly."

"When can you have it ready?"

B'Elanna paused for a moment. "Two hours, maybe three."

Chakotay was satisfied with that, "Get right on it, use as many people as you need."

The Captain however, didn't seem to share his enthusiasm, her gaze narrow and her jaw line tight as she broke in. "Mr Carey, what do you think?"

"With the right field modulation it might work." Carey replied in a careful, conservative tone, "But we'll need more power to the emitter array."

"Very well." Janeway concluded, "You're in charge down there Mr Carey. Report to me when the tractor beam is ready." As Carey's agreement rang through her ears, she looked to Tom, "Mr Paris, hold our position here."

"Captain." Seven spoke up again, an impatient edge creeping into her tone, "We should pull back from the singularity until we've come to a tactical decision."

"You just heard it Lieutenant, we're remodulating the tractor beam." Janeway reminded her distractedly, "I'm sure Mr Carey would appreciate the most accurate readings of the singularity we can give him, and we can do that from here."

"We could also begin to be pulled towards the singularity ourselves from here, if the process has not begun already." Seven responded coldly, "If the vessel is truly trapped, the tractor beam could exert pull on us towards the singularity instead of freeing the vessel, which may already be lost if the spatial pressures have crushed everyone inside…"

"Seven of Nine, how did the Borg get back that Sphere they lost?" Janeway queried abruptly.

Seven blinked, surprised by the sudden and irrelevant question. "They didn't. The Sphere was declared lost, no unnecessary resources were allocated to its salvage. Why is that relevant?"

"It's relevant because we're not the Borg." Janeway told her sharply, "This ship won't just be abandoning ships in distress just because to offer assistance would be inconvenient to us."

"Being trapped in a singularity's event horizon while our power reserves are already below minimum would significantly exceed being inconvenient…" Seven began to retort hotly.

Losing patience, Janeway spun around to face her head on. "Lieutenant, if you don't want to assist in this mission you can help Kes with her new Hydroponics Bay as you were previously assigned to do."

Seven briefly thought about pointing out that, yes a Hydroponics Bay would prove very useful if they were trapped in a singularity's event horizon for the rest of their lives, but once glance around the crew's already apprehensive faces made her think better of it. "Yes Captain." She agreed stiffly through gritted teeth.

"Good." The Captain muttered before stepping closer to Chakotay and leaning towards his ear. "I'd like to speak to you in private."

Seven, with her enhanced hearing, heard that little exchange before Janeway stalked towards her Ready Room, Chakotay hardly pausing before following after her. Seven had to gulp, a twinge of guilt about what she'd put Chakotay in for pulling at her even as her aggravation refused to diminish, but Kes' soft voice interrupted her tumultuous thoughts. "I suppose I'll meet you in Cargo Bay 1 then Lieutenant?"

"Yes." Seven responded sharply before forcing herself to calm down, despite the fact that the Ocampa girl seemed unperturbed, still smiling sweetly as she briefly put a patronising hand on Seven's arm. "I will be there imminently Kes."

"Of course." Kes replied quickly before disappearing into the turbolift with Neelix.

Harry, who'd been watching the whole exchange, eyed Seven thoughtfully, "Seven, why don't you like Kes?"

Seven looked up from her console, arching one eyebrow at her new colleague. "_That _is what you wish to ask me today Ensign?"

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, honestly he didn't dare ask about the singularity. "Well, I noticed that you didn't seem too thrilled about working with her…"

"Kes' behaviour is always patently unobjectionable." Seven interrupted with a sigh, "Working with her presents no obstacles for me." She felt that Harry's eyes were still on her and reluctantly decided to elaborate, "Her…ignorance disturbs me." She admitted.

"She's not even two years old yet and she's lived underground for the majority of that time…"

"Being less than two years old in Ocampan terms is not the same as being a child Ensign." Seven cut in, "If her age is equated with that of humans, she is not any younger than I am."

"But Seven, you're not exactly average for humans either…" Harry again cleared his throat awkwardly, "No offence."

"None taken." Seven replied with a note of amusement in her voice before returning to what he'd originally argued, "As for living underground, not all Ocampa live like that, nor are they entirely benign as a species, we should remain aware of that."

"But Kes _is _a benign Ocampa, just like _you're _a benign former drone." Harry told her boldly before shrinking back nervously.

Seven regarded him thoughtfully, "I see your point Ensign." She conceded gracefully, "Thank you."

Harry tried to smile at her, but was afraid he came across instead as a grinning idiot as she moved towards the turbolift. "Anytime."

* * *

><p>"I get the impression your dro…Seven of Nine has a problem with compassion." Janeway remarked frostily as she entered her Ready Room with Chakotay following behind.<p>

Chakotay bristled and stopped midstride, "Seven is one of the most naturally compassionate people I've ever known, which is a miracle considering what she's been through." He replied firmly, "I know she crossed a couple of lines out there, but you need to understand that she's always played devil's advocate in situations like that and hearing her out has kept me alive more times than I can count."

"I don't doubt it." Janeway admitted, "But right now we have a bigger problem than Seven's pessimism."

Chakotay took a deep bracing breath, "Captain, I appreciate your concerns about Torres, but I promise you…"

"You don't understand Commander, this isn't about Torres." The Captain told him brusquely, "My problem is with you."

Chakotay couldn't stop his eyebrows from rising, not sure if he believed what he was hearing. "Me?"

Janeway huffed a short sigh. "Let me be blunt." She straightened her back as if preparing for the line of fire, "What you just did was out of line."

Chakotay was left unenlightened by that. "In what way?"

The Captain's eyes narrowed in irritation, like a teacher growing tired of a wilfully dull child. "When you called Torres in Engineering." She answered shortly.

"I've worked with her, I know what's she's capable of." Chakotay tried to explain defensively, "We needed an answer right away and I knew she could give us one."

If possible, Janeway's jaw tensed further, she was preparing to dig her heels in. "Carey is the senior officer in Engineering."

Chakotay felt his own stance begin to stiffen for a fight. "If you look at it that way none of my people will ever have seniority…"

"That's the problem, right there." Janeway declared, striding right into his face. "They're not your people. You're treating the Maquis on this ship like they're still your crew."

"I'm doing everything I can to integrate them into _your _crew…" He couldn't stop the bitter note that hit the word 'your', "…but frankly you're not making it easy for me Captain!"

"I can't make it easy for them Commander." Janeway half-pleaded, "Surely you can understand that. They don't have the discipline, they don't have the training!"

"But some of them, like B'Elanna Torres, have the ability!" Chakotay countered passionately.

Janeway turned away when faced with his conviction, returning to the security of her desk. "The Starfleet officers on this ship have worked all their lives to earn their commissions. How am I supposed to ask them to accept a Maquis as a superior officer just because circumstances have forced us together?"

Chakotay stared at her in disbelief, overwhelmed by her hypocrisy. Now he was seeing her true colours. "You're asking them to accept me, and Seven…"

"You're qualified; you're a graduate of the Academy, such a high-flying one that you were promoted to Lieutenant on your first mission and were on the fast-track to command. As for Seven, we need her, everyone would acknowledge she has knowledge from the Borg that we have to use, but I don't even consider her a Maquis. We both know she would've joined you on a war against Tribbles if it would've kept you with her…"

Chakotay flinched at the derogatory remark, and Janeway knew she'd overstepped when Chakotay's eyes burned like coal set alight. "Permission to speak freely."

"Go ahead." She permitted quietly.

"I have no intention of being your token Maquis officer." Chakotay stated with cold, unequivocal bluntness even as his eyes continued to blaze.

Now it was Janeway turn to flinch as he hit the mark. "Show me another qualified Maquis candidate and I'll consider him."

"B'Elanna Torres!" Chakotay repeated in a growl.

"Who could not control herself and could not make it through the Academy." Janeway told him stubbornly.

"She's the best engineer I've ever known, she could teach at the Academy!" Chakotay snapped in exasperation, moving determinedly back towards the door before turning back sharply to hold her gaze for a moment, "You're right Captain, I do consider these my people, because no one else on this ship will look out for them like I will. I'm telling you, you're going to have to give them more authority if you want their loyalty."

Janeway regarded him intently, "Theirs…or yours, Commander?" she asked pointedly.

Chakotay pursed his lips, his gaze hardening as it cooled. "I'm trying to help you, I'm sorry you don't see that." He said succinctly, "I strongly recommend you get to know Torres before you choose a new Chief Engineer." He took a step back but didn't break their tense locked gaze, "Permission to leave."

"Dismissed." Janeway agreed tightly, only releasing her breath when the doors had closed firmly behind Chakotay.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D You get two chapters today, this and chapter 2 of 'The Girl Next Door' because I lost my internet for a couple of days so had a backlog of chapters I couldn't upload. **


	72. My Lover's Keeper

Cargo Bay 1 was, according to Voyager's schematics, the smaller of the ship's two cargo bays, which in Seven's mind meant that its contents should've been organised as efficiently as possible to make the best possible use of the space, but the reality of the place missed her expectations by a long way. A great deal of the floor space was empty, which given that Voyager's mission was only intended to last a few weeks made sense, but left the room feeling abandoned and forlorn. What supplies there were, Seven couldn't help but feel a jolt of surprise at how sparsely Starfleet seemed to prepare their vessels, were dotted seemingly at random around the room, a few crates there, boxes collected in small stacks, multiple containers… She couldn't decipher any sort of system, and if there was one, she would need to change it at once.

Her eyes flicked to the room's wall mounted Computer access panel; this area did indeed have its own environmental controls independent from the wider system. That was the vital requirement for a Hydroponics Bay; any other deficiencies could be corrected in time. Now that she'd determined this wouldn't be a thankless task such as the one Janeway was conducting on the Bridge, she allowed herself to scan the room for her colleague in this initiative. Kes hadn't noticed her entrance; her petite form was bent over an open container, occasionally turning her head to glance down at the PADD in her hand. Seven had to appreciate that the Ocampa had immediately applied herself to the assigned task, and guilt as she remembered her conversation with Ensign Kim made her opening words brusque, "What are you doing?"

"Oh." Kes gasped softly, straightening up and turning around to give the other woman a softly apologetic smile. "I'm sorry that I didn't wait for you before starting, I thought the Captain would need you on the Bridge…"

"My input was deemed superfluous to her objectives for the moment." Seven replied stiffly before slowly approaching the open container, intrigued. "You have already found some components for this project." She commented as she saw the disassembled shelving surrounding Kes' feet.

Kes nodded, "Yes, I downloaded this storage manifest then managed to find some of the shelving, once we built it it'll be perfect for the plants, we'll be able to have several rows…" She let her enthusiasm trail off as she saw that Seven's attention was focused on the manifest. Obligingly, she held out the PADD to her, "I've been trying to find the infra-red heat lamps. Apparently we have at least four in here but…"

Seven had quickly memorised the manifest and interrupted, "I believe the manifest instructs that the heat lamp containers are located in the lower left hand corner." She intoned, but then amended as she looked around the disordered room, "However, it's evident that the materials were not stored in full accordance with the manifest."

"I'm sure whoever packed everything did their best." Kes protested lightly, "Maybe things were jolted around during the trip from the Alpha Quadrant, or during the battle with the Kazon."

"I'm sure." Seven conceded with a sigh, "In that case we had better dedicate some time to performing an updated manifest before we attempt further reconfigurations."

"Of course." Kes agreed with a biddable smile, "I was hoping to get some nitrogenised soil samples as soon as possible so we can discover which kind of soil will best support the plants."

"If you intend to use nitrogenised soil then this will be an Airponics Bay, not a hydroponic one." Seven remarked, "Hydroponic growing methods use nutrient liquids other than soil while Airponic methods use soil alone."

Kes was unfazed by her correction, "We always used both methods simultaneously in the city's gardens. I suggested starting with soil because the hydroponic liquids need to be replicated and we don't have the power right now. Then again, I'm not sure where I would get the soil samples I need…"

"The Emergency Medical Hologram will likely have such information somewhere in his database, and Sickbay has the technology to synthesise the soil you require without consuming excessive power." Seven answered after a moment of consideration.

Kes smiled once again, this time in relief, and moved purposefully towards the door. "I'll go and ask him now…" She began eagerly.

Seven was going to let her go, but once again echoes of what Ensign Kim had told her filled her ears, she'd been treating the Ocampa girl unfairly. Kolopak would've been disappointed that she was not treating others as she would wish to be treated. "Wait!" she called her back abruptly, flushing slightly when Kes spun back round to face her in surprise. "I wish to...apologise for my rude behaviour towards you in the Briefing Room, and just now also." Kes started to shake her head but Seven persevered regardless. However, what she said to partially explain her actions surprised the ex-drone herself as the words left her mouth. "I am…unaccustomed to interacting with someone who does not know of the Borg. I have grown to expect certain reactions from people to my presence."

"You expected me to be afraid of…to hate you?" Kes asked uncertainly before she remarked with conviction, "Commander Chakotay doesn't have those feelings, neither do the rest of your Maquis crew, why did you expect different from me?"

Seven shifted uncomfortably, "They all felt fear…and hate when they first saw me, even Chakotay." She stated in a low tone.

"But they don't anymore, once they got to know you." Kes pressed, "Neelix told me a little about the Borg, and I don't claim to really understand them, but I do know you weren't in control of your actions."

Seven sighed tightly, "No, I was not, not entirely." She'd never been particularly comfortable with that comforting point, one which had been made by her and to her so often, although she'd been controlled by the Hive Mind, her mind had been as much a part of that Hive as any other, playing its small role in the control of others.

Kes studied her astutely and stepped closer, "It's not just that you don't know how to act around someone ignorant of the Borg is it? You…or the Borg, know something about my people don't you?"

Seven flinched, but couldn't think of a way to avoid the question without espousing the dishonesty she hated. "Yes." She confirmed shortly.

"How is that possible?" Kes murmured in awe, "My people have never had any contact with these Borg, the Caretaker would've…" She frowned, not liking her people's dependence on the Caretaker now anymore than she had while living in the city, "If we had it would've been recorded in our histories…"

"Without doubt." Seven replied ruefully, "And the Caretaker did protect your homeworld from the Collective, he was certainly advanced enough for that."

Kes was becoming increasingly perplexed, "Then how…"

Seven pressed her lips together, "I was not surprised when the Caretaker revealed that he had once had a mate, one who left Ocampa. It correlates the reports the Collective assimilated from the many species which had contact with her and the group of Ocampa she brought with her."

"Ocampa left the homeworld?" Kes echoed in wonder, "Those of us left in the city all those generations ago never knew, I'm sure of it!" She became wide-eyed and flushed with excitement, "They must've been some of our brightest minds, our most eager explorers! We know that our people once had great mental abilities but those on the planet had been losing those abilities over time. Maybe these people who left didn't…" She stopped as she saw Seven tense further, "That's it isn't it?" She deduced eagerly, "Did these Ocampa defeat your Borg?"

"No." Seven answered firmly, "The Borg have never had direct contact with the Ocampa or the female Caretaker, only with species who know of them. Those reports are not…encouraging from Voyager's perspective."

Kes shook her head vigorously, "Anyone among my people would do everything they could for Voyager after how this crew saved our homeworld from the Kazon!"

Seven sighed, deciding not to mention that many of the Ocampa had held B'Elanna and Harry captive at the Caretaker's whim. "The Ocampa you know followed a different path of development from those Ocampa who left. Those who had contact with them, I'll admit that it was minimal, report that the Ocampa were focused entirely on increasing the scope of their mental abilities, to the detriment of all other concerns. Some had ascended beyond the laws of physics and their appreciation for lesser beings deteriorated. In essence they were considered dangerous and unpredictable beings."

"Dangerous?" Kes repeated faintly, "No, that's impossible…"

"Humanoids use that term far too frequently." Seven replied ruefully, "But I will concede that my judgement is perhaps impaired. I realise that most species would have the same concerns about me."

"And you thought…" Kes began, "…since I said that the Ocampa should try to regain their mental abilities, that _I _might become dangerous to Voyager."

Seven bit her lip, shame overcoming wariness. "Irrational as it was, yes." She murmured frankly, "I apologise for my gross error towards you."

Kes swallowed slightly, "I understand." She assured her, "If I knew what you did, I would've probably felt the same. Why didn't you tell the Captain all this when she said she was going to seek out the female Caretaker?"

"I did not believe she would listen to me at the time, with her emotional desire to return this crew to the Alpha Quadrant." Seven replied tersely, her face darkening again, "Besides, the chances of ever encountering the female Caretaker are negligible at best."

Kes gave her a weak smile, "I thought you said nothing was impossible." Seven arched her metallic brow at her and she decided to clear the air with this 'ex-drone'. "Look, I intend to develop my mental powers as much as I can, if only to learn more about myself, but I can promise you now that I'll _never _endanger Voyager or its crew, you have my word." She declared earnestly.

Seven could hear the sincerity in her voice, but also a note of determined stubbornness that, perhaps against her better judgement, made her respect for the baby-faced girl go up. "I will accept your word. It is not my place in any case to dictate to what extent someone can reach for perfection. I was only attempting to give you…reasonable warning."

"I appreciate it." Kes replied as warmly as she could. Despite how strange this woman's mannerisms were, she could read her well enough to see that she'd told her this disturbing information out of backward kindness as well as mistrustful concern. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yes." Seven answered stiltedly as she instinctively braced herself, half expecting to be cursed at. That's what B'Elanna had always done earlier in their acquaintance if she'd made a comment about the volatility of Klingons.

"It's just that…" Kes paused for a moment to meet Seven's gaze with a surprising brazenness, "Commander Chakotay has never hated you. He may have feared you long ago but it has long since become a fear _for _you. He loves you Seven."

Seven had to blink to ease the sudden pressure behind her eyes. "I know." She admitted in a whisper. Looking into Kes' eyes, which had gone from wide and naïve to eerily old and knowing, made a self-aware blush redden her cheeks, in both embarrassment and violation. "You are a telepath, have you been…"

"No!" Kes assured her quickly, mortified, before she composed herself entirely. "My telepathy isn't strong, I can communicate with my people and probably some other telepathic races but I can't hear the non-telepathic members of this crew. With yourself and the Commander, it's more like…an aura." She shook her head slightly as words failed her, "It's hard to explain, sometimes I can see it, it's like your colours blend when you're together…" She tried again as she saw that Seven was frowning at her in incomprehension, "Sometimes, more often times, I just feel a warmth and contentment coming from the two of you…" She explained with a thoughtful, far away smile on her face even as Seven blushed harder, "Don't worry about it, it's just rare to see, but it's a beautiful thing. On Ocampa it was a traditional prayer at a wedding for a love like that to develop between the newlyweds…"

"Chakotay has expressed no intention of marrying me." Seven cut her off abruptly, discomfiture overcoming most of the pleasure she heard at the revelation, and she hastily suppressed the hope it brought.

Kes didn't make any sly remark in return, just continued to smile serenely as she suddenly turned to fully face the Cargo Bay's doors just before they slid open and Chakotay, his face clouded over and unreadable, rushed single-mindedly inside. "Hello Commander." Kes greeted him pleasantly. Chakotay glanced at her distractedly, barely managing a polite nod, but the Ocampa girl, unlike Seven, was unperturbed by his uncharacteristic rudeness. Instead she moved purposefully towards the door, "I'll go and get those soil samples from the Doctor."

"Yes…" Seven muttered, forcing herself to look away from Chakotay while she replied. "I apologise again." She caught Kes' nod of acknowledgement but by the time the doors swished closed behind the departing Ocampa she'd moved to stand in front of Chakotay, briefly grasping his elbows to hold him still. "You are agitated." She said concernedly. Normally just that tone would've been enough to rouse a response from him but his eyes remained unfocused. "Chakotay…" She murmured, lifting her human hand up to his face, caressing his jaw where the muscles had tensed as he grinded his teeth. "What's wrong?"

A ragged sigh escaped his lips as her voice finally reached him. For an instant, as he gradually relaxed under her touch, Seven wondered what Kes' 'aura' around them would present like right now, but she dismissed the vague thought as Chakotay leaned his cheek further into her hand, raising his own hand to run it through his hair, "What's wrong is I think Janeway and I just had our most honest conversation to date." He muttered harshly.

Seven carefully studied him, trying to gauge how direct she could risk being. "This conversation concerned B'Elanna's role on the ship?"

Frustration smouldered in Chakotay's dark eyes, "It turned out to be more about _my _role actually." He had to stop for breath, "She believes that I still treat the Maquis as my own crew, that I'll advocate for them ahead of the needs of this crew…"

Seven frowned in disbelief, "Isn't that natural to some extent? The Maquis here were your sole and all-consuming responsibility for three years."

"Of course it's natural!" Chakotay exploded, "But then you're reasonable and the Captain just wants me to expect the Maquis to cling to her Starfleet principles for support…"

Seven cocked her head at him slightly, her hand now running down all one side of his face in an attempt to soothe him. "I'm sure many would disagree about my reasonableness…" She commented lightly.

Chakotay didn't even crack a smirk, buried in the resentments which were now caving in on him. "She made the argument that the Maquis aren't trained to her Starfleet standards, which is crap because we know more about surviving on the edge than she ever has…and then when I pointed out that if she looked at it that way none of my people would ever take seniority she took offence…"

"That is when she made the point about the Maquis still being 'yours'." Seven guessed, "Despite the fact that every one of them is an individual."

Chakotay broke his narrative with a sharp nod, then continued, "She got up on her moral high horse about the Starfleet crew having worked their entire lives for their commissions and that they shouldn't be expected to give them up for unqualified Maquis interlopers…"

Seven somehow doubted the Captain had used those precise words, but she understood the sentiment. "She has a point. However, she forgets that with the loss of so many Voyager crewmembers, she will need to promote people who are less qualified or less experienced to fill some roles in any case."

Chakotay tried to listen to her, but was still left angry. "Don't I have a point when I say the Maquis have talents that shouldn't be overlooked just because they avoided Starfleet?"

"Of course you do." Seven assured him softly, "This crew must be combined to exploit all talents to the full." Her face darkened to mirror his as a new question occurred to her, "What reason did she give you for singling us out, beyond using my Borg knowledge and integrating the Maquis by assimilating their leader?"

Chakotay grimaced, "You practically took the words out of her mouth." He informed her tersely, "But don't worry, I told her in no uncertain that I'm not going to be her token Maquis officer." His jaw locked again, "She also said that you weren't really Maquis, that you would've waged a war on Tribbles if I asked you to."

Seven was now truly confused as she pictured the fluffy creatures who were exclusively interested in eating and a rate of procreation that made Earth's rabbits look celibate. Apart from the Klingons, who despised them with all the venom present in their psyches, most other species thought them cute. "Why would either of us ever launch a war on Tribbles?" she queried, an amused smile pulling at her lips.

"This isn't a joke Seven!" Chakotay snapped at her irately, "She basically accused me of manipulating you into joining the Maquis, that even then your feelings for me…"

Seven gave a shot, exasperated sigh as she stepped back from him firmly, "I thought we had already addressed my reasoning at the time of our joining the Maquis. Why do you let this irrational guilt persist?" she asked sharply.

Chakotay stared down at her, swallowing hard. "_Is_ it so irrational?" he demanded.

"Of course it is!" Seven threw back at him hotly.

Chakotay shook his head stubbornly, "No, no it's not." He decided, "Joining the Maquis wouldn't have occurred to you without me, you've never had much belief in revenge. You just became convinced that I wouldn't survive without you; Kenharan admitted you told him as much! For God's sake you were only nineteen, I should've shoved your ass on a shuttle and locked you in…"

"And your twenty one year old self would've sent me where?" Seven questioned acridly, "Starfleet Headquarters? Back to the Collective?" She barked a bitter laugh as Chakotay's face fell in horror, "In actual fact I had fewer choices on where to go than you did Chakotay." She breathed a broken sigh, reaching behind her to grip a container for support as she gazed up at him resignedly, the burning flame of her temper beginning to dim. "I will admit that I did join the Maquis partly to protect you, you remember how blinded you were by grief and rage…" She trailed off as her voice cracked, "But my other motivations were entirely my own, I had just lost the only home I'd known and had nowhere to go, and although the Borg declare vengeance to be irrelevant I felt anger. You always forget that I loved your father too…"

Chakotay reached out for her, stricken. "I've never forgotten that for a second Seven…" He began thickly.

Seven gently shrugged him off, "My point is that my choices were entirely my own. I do not appreciate you diminishing my individuality anymore than I do from the Captain." Having said her piece, and seeing realisation settle on his face, she let him pull her into a hug and gladly reciprocated.

"I'm sorry…" He murmured into her hair, "I guess I didn't see it like that." He straightened up to look into her face, "I know I'm not your keeper, far from it, but I think you'll admit we both have a hard time letting go when the other's threatened…"

"I will concede that." Seven mumbled into his shoulder as she leaned into him again. "What else was involved in your and the Captain's exchange?"

"Authority, loyalty, trust…" Chakotay answered, "Everything we'll need to make this journey possible." He heaved a deep sigh, "I suppose, for now, we'll just need to work together as best we can to build it up." He concluded tiredly, "I think we'll have a chance with B'Elanna, I get the impression that the Captain might give her that chance at the end of the day."

"With what she is trying to achieve in the anomaly, she will need all of B'Elanna's expertise." Seven replied tightly.

Chakotay gave her cybernetic hand a squeeze before bringing the cool metallic fingers up to his face. "She'll need yours too then." He reminded her softly as he brushed his lips against the inside of her wrist, where the grafts of human skin that knitted the implants together were hyper-sensitive to touch. "Sulking down here won't help anyone."

Seven tried to snatch her hand back, but he held fast. "I'm not _sulking_…" She started to retort defensively before she caught the knowing glint in his eye and sighed, "The Captain has made it clear that she doesn't want my expertise during this mission."

"But it has a bigger chance of success if you help." Chakotay pressed, "And if something does go wrong you'll have some idea of what to do and that's vital." He regarded her beseechingly, "Don't make me order you back to the Bridge Lieutenant." He added, only half teasing.

"You need not." Seven agreed resignedly, immediately turning away from him to head for the door now that she'd made her decision.

"Hey!" Chakotay said indignantly, finally relaxed enough to laugh. "We had a pretty significant argument just then, what happened to 'kiss and make up'?"

Seven smirked at him over her shoulder, "You can't have it both ways all the time Commander, right now I am following your orders."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D This will be my last chapter of the week because I'm going away for the weekend tomorrow and won't have the internet again until Sunday night. **


	73. Women of Science

**A/n: As ever, I don't own 'Star Trek: Voyager', if I did canon would be more like this AU ;), but I did lift a lot of dialogue from 'Parallax' for this chapter. Its so exposition heavy that there's no way I could re-write it all!**

**Thank you to cojack for updating 'Recharting the Course'.**

When Chakotay and Seven stepped out of the turbolift together, they found that the Bridge was a hive of particularly frenetic activity. Captain Janeway had left her usual central place seated in the 'big chair' and was instead roaming between the consoles and their assigned officers. Despite this shift in position and priority, Janeway was as a dominant a presence on her Bridge as ever. Seven released the smallest of apprehensive sighs as she saw from one glance at the viewscreen that they'd moved even closer to the singularity and the trapped vessel, B'Elanna's sub-space tractor beam must be almost completed. Chakotay must've heard the sigh, subtle as it was, from his place beside her, for he shot her a long, deliberate glance before briefly rolling his shoulders to relax his stance then moving smoothly to his own chair, though like the Captain he didn't sit.

Lieutenant Carey's voice interrupted the tension that, to Seven's senses at least, was bearing down on them. "Carey to Bridge. The sub-space tractor beam is online and ready to go."

The Captain replied with a decisiveness that was either stubborn or impressive depending whether she'd given any thought to Seven's warnings at all. "Acknowledged." She moved swiftly to stand by Tuvok's station, glancing at him briefly to issue her order before fixing her eyes determinedly on the still distant and obscured vessel ahead of them. "Lock onto that ship."

"Engaging tractor beam." Tuvok complied, tapping steadily at his console, his stance unwavering even as the ship began to vibrate with increasing force as the tractor beam reached out then locked on. "It's working. The beam is penetrating the event horizon."

Seven couldn't help but feel a little surprised, she hadn't expected for this fool's errand to successfully progress even this far, but in the next moment her instinctive wariness kicked in and she didn't hesitate any longer in reporting to her own console.

That instinct was proven right when next to her Harry Kim lifted his gaze from his latest readings with anxiety pinching at his eyes. "Engineering, check your power levels. I'm showing massive power fluctuations."

B'Elanna's frustrated voice filled the Bridge through the own comm. line, "Damn it! The new power relays aren't holding…"

In the next second her words were proven right as the whole ship lurched haphazardly forward. Chakotay, standing the open, stumbled forward several strides, barely able to avoid falling flat on his face, but compared to most of his crewmates, whose soft bodies were slammed against their unyielding consoles, he was lucky. Tom grunted in pain, his stomach muscles at least bruised, but still scrambled to read the data. "We're being pulled towards the singularity!"

Chakotay twisted around to face Ops, having managed to grab at the mainly decorative railing acting as a divider between the command level and the upper part of the Bridge. "What's going on?!"

"Power to the tractor beam is down 80%..." Kim began to report.

"The gravimetric force of singularity is pulling us in!" Seven concluded sharply, her fingers flying over hr own controls, "Disengaging tractor beam!"

"And full reverse!" The Captain half shouted, white faced and grim.

"B'Elanna, the beam isn't shutting down…" Seven called down tersely to Engineering.

"I _can't _shut it down!" B'Elanna shot back, "The emitter relays are locked!"

"Captain…" Kim broke in, "I'm reading hull stress all over the ship. If we keep the engines at full reverse while the tractor beam is engaged we'll pull the ship apart!"

The Captain almost fell against Tom as she moved forward to order him, "Cut the engines!"

"We're moving forward!" Tom answered frantically as soon as he'd pressed the button to cut the engines and, perhaps, seal their fate.

"We need that tractor beam offline!" The Captain declared to no one in particular.

"I've done all I can to shut it down from here." Seven replied breathlessly as the ship lurched once again.

The chaos in Engineering was such that Carey's input came down the line as a hoarse shout. "Captain, I can shut it down but I'll need to get in there and physically cut the main power feed."

Janeway swallowed at the thought of the dangerous manoeuvre, but she could see what lay ahead for all of them if he didn't risk it. "Do it!"

A few torturous, volatile seconds passed before the ship suddenly stilled and Tuvok could straighten to give the answer they all wanted to hear. "The tractor beam has disengaged Captain."

Janeway allowed herself a single exhalation of relief, a break from having to roll with events, before reasserting herself. "Move us a safe distance away from the singularity Mr Paris." She moved back towards a tight lipped Chakotay, who eyed her speculatively, "Are we abandoning the rescue attempt?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral even as he looked over Janeway's shoulder to meet Seven's still wide eyes.

"No." The Captain answered firmly, but then in the same breath, "But we do need some help." She took another deep breath in as her eyes settled pensively on the threatening glow of the singularity in front of them, through Tom was rapidly creating distance. "Lay in a course for the Ilidaria system and have Mr Neelix report to the Bridge. It looks like we're going to follow his suggestion after all."

Chakotay nodded in silent approval and moved away to summon the Talaxian, though he was tempted to stay where he was as he saw Janeway approach Seven at her console. Seven couldn't quite suppress the reflex to arch an eyebrow even as she stood rigidly to attention. "Captain?"

Janeway looked up at her with surprisingly frank eyes, "You were right to order the tractor beam's deactivation as soon as you saw the problem, if we'd waited…" She trailed off, "You were also proven right about that plan in the first place, and I won't be ignoring your input again."

"Thank you Captain." Seven replied simply; glad to see new, professional respect directed towards her from the older woman. She supposed she could've 'rubbed in' her own proper judgement of the situation, but she didn't see the point in causing aggravation after this step forward, her ego was irrelevant. Remembering her own advice to Chakotay, she decided to be pointedly magnanimous. "I will remain on the Bridge for as long as is necessary to monitor the situation Captain. It may perhaps prove that the Ilidarians know enough about the anomaly to free the trapped vessel."

She was rewarded for her effort with a smile from Janeway, "Well, we're going to stick with this rescue mission until we find out either way."

Seven nodded, "Understood." She answered, allowing her eyes to move back down to her console's multiple data streams, which to her were much more understandable, as the Captain left the Bridge for her Ready Room.

* * *

><p>Captain Janeway looked up from her desk console's screen as a single, polite ring of the doorbell filled her Ready Room. She was careful to take a more relaxed posture, deliberately leaning back in her chair, before answering. "Come in."<p>

B'Elanna Torres swept into the room with neat powerful strides, like a directed burst of wind. Her posture was impeccable, she stood in front of Janeway's desk like a cadet awaiting inspection, though Janeway, having read B'Elanna's file, doubted the younger woman would like the comparison. "You asked to see me, Captain?" she asked in a clipped, expectant voice. To her Captain's eyes she seemed almost _too_ controlled at that moment, to the point of stiffness; obviously when she reined in her Klingon volatility she could go too far in the other direction.

"Have a seat." Janeway suggested calmly.

B'Elanna's mask slipped upon hearing this unexpected show of courtesy, she stepped forward, meeting Janeway's eyes emphatically. "I just want you to know that I have personally gone over every emitter relay again and refitted four of them myself…"

"No one blames you for what happened." Janeway assured her quickly, regarding the woman with another pair of fresh eyes, "Commander Chakotay thinks very highly of you." She added gently as she saw uncertainty flicker perceptively over the half-Klingon's dark gaze. She felt her respect for Chakotay go up, or at least recover from their argument somewhat, he certainly wasn't a leader afraid of surrounding himself with capable, complex women if Torres and Seven of Nine were anything to go by. "He's recommended you for Chief Engineer."

B'Elanna looked down then, finally taking a breath before sinking down into the previously offered chair. "Well…we've been through a few scrapes together." She replied modestly.

"Do you think you're ready?" Janeway asked simply, studying her carefully.

B'Elanna's eyes widened as her eyebrows rose questioningly. "Ready?" she echoed.

"Ready to be Chief Engineer on a starship." Janeway pressed frankly.

B'Elanna hesitated for a split second before answering with equal frankness, "Well, I think I know my way around an engine room, if that's what you mean." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Janeway looked away for a moment. "Its part of what I mean." She responded carefully before standing up from her desk and starting to walk out from behind its measure of protection as she moved the conversation to more dangerous ground. "There's also the matter of your ability to command others." She turned her face her candidate, it wasn't her way to be secretive about her thought process as she came to decisions, it only hindered things. "I'm not sure I'd be doing you a favour by putting you in charge down there. There would be a lot of hard feelings towards you from many of the Starfleet people." She realised as she said that that she was proving Chakotay's point somewhat by separating her original Starfleet crew from the Maquis newcomers, just as he had done in the other direction. Captain's prerogative.

B'Elanna's gaze hardened defensively, her voice dropping an octave into harshness. "I'm not bothered by what people think of me."

Janeway ignored that. "And the job requires knowledge of Starfleet protocol, experience with methodologies."

B'Elanna rose from her chair in one sudden, powerful and supple movement. "Listen Captain, if you don't think I'm right for this job, just say so." Her gaze became challenging, ready to relish the upcoming confrontation, though Janeway suspected a large part of her actually dreaded it.

This kind of attitude was exactly what I was talking about. She thought in exasperation as she stood toe to toe with Torres. "I'll be honest." She began, "I'm not sure whether you are or not. That's why I wanted to meet, get to know you a little better." B'Elanna's arms crossed over her chest as she once again looked away, disconcerted, blinking rapidly. Janeway wondered if she felt a little guilt. Her grip tightened on the PADD she held, "I've been studying your Academy record."

B'Elanna scoffed tightly, even more uncomfortable if that were possible. "Where did you get that?"

Janeway lifted her head proudly, "Thank to Tuvok, we had the names of your entire crew by the time we left DS9."

"Except for Seven's." B'Elanna muttered, unable to stop herself as this woman's manner began to claw deeper into her already frayed nerves.

Janeway glanced at her sharply, "Tuvok has already justified that decision to me, and very logically."

B'Elanna smirked slightly, "Logic can justify everything and anything." She replied thoughtfully.

Janeway forced herself to read from the PADD, though B'Elanna's comment hit the bull's-eye. "Four disciplinary hearings, one suspension…" She paused to regard B'Elanna again, "You had quite a turbulent couple of years, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." B'Elanna agreed softly.

Janeway thought she heard a note of regret in her voice and latched onto it. "What do you think the problem was?"

"The problem?" B'Elanna repeated with incredulous frustration, "The problem was a system that didn't give anyone a chance to breathe!"

"We work under that same system on this ship."

B'Elanna's head gave a defiant jerk, "Then I guess this is just a bad idea." She concluded heatedly, spinning on her heel to leave.

"Why did you quit the Academy B'Elanna?" Janeway persisted one last time.

B'Elanna turned back to face her as she reached the door's threshold. "I didn't want anything to do with Starfleet then, and I'm sorry that I have to now." She answered bluntly before fleeing hastily out of the room.

Chakotay inhaled sharply as he saw B'Elanna leave the Captain's Ready Room in a much more frazzled, unnerved state than she had been going in, even when then, despite his assurances to the contrary, she'd been expecting punishment for the catastrophic failure of the tractor beam. Against his better judgement, he started to open his mouth, Seven even shifted from her console to stop her path to the turbolift, but it was Tom Paris who spoke up first. "B'Elanna?"

He hardly got a grunt in reply, and wisely Seven stepped aside to allow her the refuge of the turbolift, which she immediately ordered to descend into Engineering. Chakotay sighed heavily, giving the unmoving Ready Room doors a long look before sharing a resigned glance with Seven.

They didn't have more than a minute or so to further consider the personnel problems however as the ship was violently rocked by a familiar force. This time, Janeway left her Ready Room immediately, hardly giving Chakotay, until then in command on the Bridge, enough time to even guess what was happening now. "Report!" she called to Chakotay urgently nonetheless.

"It looks like we're running into more spatial distortions." Chakotay replied.

"I'm picking up a highly localised disturbance off the port bow." Harry reported.

"On screen." The Captain quickly ordered, her eyes widening as she saw the same image outside that they'd fled from an hour before. "Mr Tuvok?"

"It is another Type 4 quantum singularity." Tuvok responded.

Seven shook her head, dread sinking in. "No, it's the same one." She murmured through clenched teeth, speaking louder as she explained, "Physical and temporal dimensions are identical to the one we encountered earlier, it is impossible for them to be two different phenomenon."

"She's right Captain." Tom broke in, "According to these readings we've returned to our previous coordinates, it's the same singularity."

Janeway stared at the viewscreen in disbelief for a few seconds along with almost everyone else before recovering herself and approaching Harry at Ops. "Check the navigational logs, confirm our position."

"They show we've travelled 1.4 lightyears away from the anomaly, but I've confirmed our position against the starchart, we're definitely back where we started. It doesn't make sense."

"They can't both be right." Tom countered, "We're either still in the singularity or we're not."

"Since we can see the singularity, I'm inclined to believe the external sensors are correct." Janeway told him.

"That would imply there is something wrong with the warp drive and navigational logs." Tuvok concluded.

"Not necessarily." Seven cut in, "If we have become trapped in the singularity's event horizon then it is probable that the distance we've logged has taken us deeper within the singularity rather than away from it. What we are witnessing now is our return to our point of entry, energy is being sapped from the ship's sensors and pulling us towards this point."

"Didn't you say the Borg Cube that found a similar singularity lost its engines before contact with the Hive mind was severed altogether?" Chakotay asked her.

"Yes." Seven confirmed, "It now appears that we are in the same situation as that Cube."

"Then we need to find a way back into normal space before we're stranded here for good!" The Captain exclaimed faintly before snapping back into professional control, "Ensign Kim, transfer all the data on the spatial distortions to my Ready Room, I'm going to begin my own analysis." She turned to Chakotay, "Commander, have all departments run complete system diagnostics. I'll expect a full report from all senior officers at 1500 hours."

She began her determined march back to the Ready Room, but Chakotay easily kept pace with her. "Who will represent Engineering?"

Janeway stared him down frostily. "Lieutenant Carey." She answered tersely through tightly pressed lips, though she didn't really think he deserved an answer to such an impudent question at a time like this.

Chakotay however was apparently unfazed by her hostility, or wouldn't allow himself to show it. "You should invite B'Elanna Torres as well, unless you've removed her from consideration." He held her gaze unflinchingly even as she stiffened.

"Fine." She gave in waspishly before stalking back into her Ready Room.

* * *

><p>"What we are seeing outside in that other Voyager is an example of what I can most simply term…temporal reflection." Seven explained as she stood at the Briefing Room's wall console where the perplexing image they'd just seen on the Bridge's viewscreen was shown. B'Elanna and the Captain's inventive idea to modify the sensor emitters to protect them from the singularity's effects had revealed that the ship they'd been trying to rescue for the last nine hours was in fact Voyager itself.<p>

B'Elanna sighed slightly when she saw that Seven's words did not throw the light of understanding into the eyes of their colleagues. "Think of it like this. You're sitting at the bottom of a pond, which is frozen over, and you look up at the surface and you see a reflection of yourself. Now you might think that you're looking at another person, sitting at the bottom of another pond, looking back at you."

The Captain's eyes lit up in realisation. "And in this case, we'd be staring up at the surface of the event horizon, and seeing a time delayed reflection of ourselves."

"So we're the ones trapped in the singularity? There never was another ship?" Chakotay questioned, feeling out of his depth. He wished he'd listened closer when Seven was coaching him through first high school physics, and then, via comm. line, his Academy course on temporal mechanics.

"Correct." Seven replied as the Captain and B'Elanna nodded in tandem with her.

"It's the only theory that explains everything that's happened to us." The Captain said, "We've probably been in this singularity since we felt the first jolt." Seven had to take her turn to nod in agreement, though it meant that even her warnings had come too late. If she'd kept a closer eye on long range sensors herself they could've avoided…

"Wait a minute, wait…" Tom pleaded in exasperated confusion, "Let me get this straight. We were cruising along at warp 7, then we pick up a distress call and moved in to investigate, but now you're saying that the other ship is just a reflection of us…and that the distress call is actually just the Captain's opening hail. But we picked up the distress call _before _she sent the hail. How can we be seeing a reflection of something we haven't even done yet?" He paused as he realised he had dead silence building around him and shifted awkwardly, "Am I making any sense here?"

"No." Seven answered shortly, "Your grasp of the infinite possibilities of time is inadequate Mr Paris."

Janeway smiled slightly, and tried to soften Seven's blow. "It's alright Lieutenant. One of the more difficult concepts to grasp in temporal mechanics is that sometimes effect can precede cause. A reaction can be observed before the action which initiated it."

"Then what do we do to get out?" Harry asked warily.

"I'm not sure." B'Elanna replied, "But I do know one thing. As we slide deeper into the singularity, beyond the energy loss Seven pointed out, the gravimetric distortions are increasing. If my calculations are right then we have less than nine hours before the ship is crushed."

"Even if we find a method to shield ourselves from the distortions we will eventually lose warp and impulse capability and be unable to get out." Seven added grimly.

Janeway left her seat at the head of the large oval table and joined the other two women, addressing B'Elanna, "If your analogy is correct, then how do we break through the sheet of ice?"

"Look for a crack." B'Elanna immediately threw back.

"Or make a crack." The Captain continued, take something and smash it into the ice until it buckles."

"Wait a minute, what if we've already made a crack in the ice?" B'Elanna speculated.

Seven characteristically discarded the ice metaphor as unwieldy and irrelevant. "The rupture we created in the event horizon will be closing, but it may still be significant enough for us to…"

"…get out the way we came in." B'Elanna finished.

"So we'd be looking for a subspace instability in the event horizon." Janeway concluded, her mind racing. "What would make it show up on our sensors?"

"Warp particles!" All three women answered at once like a perfectly in tune trio of singers.

"If we saturate the region with warp particles then we might be able to see them escaping through the rupture we entered!" The Captain declared triumphantly, heading for the Bridge with Seven and B'Elanna just behind her, already discussing how to maximise the warp particles resonance with the sensors and then a controlled release mechanism.

"Geez." Tom muttered as he watched them leave, running a dazed hand through his fair hair. "I think the average I.Q. in this room just dropped 50 points."

Chakotay chuckled as he rose to follow the women out onto the Bridge. "More like 100 points, or even double that Mr Paris."

* * *

><p>"There they are, your staff." Chakotay announced warmly as he entered Engineering with Voyager's newest senior officer.<p>

As they halted into front of he visual kaleidoscope that was the warp core, B'Elanna looked around the expansive deck and the people manning it with satisfaction. "I'll try not to break any of their noses." She remarked wryly.

Chakotay smiled down at her before assuming his own professional role. "First order of the day. The Captain wants the warp drive back online by 1300 hours."

"1300? That's impossible." B'Elanna answered with certainty.

"Then maybe you need to go break a few noses, or at least…bend a few." Chakotay advised with gleaming eyes. B'Elanna's full lips turned up as she chuckled, her whole posture relaxing just as her friend had intended. "Lieutenant." She nodded to him as he turned away and left, starting to issue orders as Seven, who'd been holding down the fort one last time while B'Elanna was finally presented with her pips, stepped back, symbolically at least, from what she was working on, and awaited orders.

Chakotay saw the silent signal of support as he ascended the small flight of stairs to join the Captain on the deck upper level and smiled to himself. Neither B'Elanna or Seven was likely to ever tell the other that they had their respect, but they showed it, and that was after all the more important thing. "Checking up on your new Chief Engineer?" he asked Janeway cautiously as he reached her side. He wished it had taken less than getting trapped in a deadly anomaly to make her see B'Elanna's merits, but however they'd worked together on that last ditch shuttle mission had sealed B'Elanna's role on Voyager more than anything he could've said, he had to be grateful that he'd achieved his objective in that respect, though he suspected that he himself still had longer to go to reach that point in Kathryn Janeway's eyes.

"Observing." Janeway quibbled.

"And?" Chakotay prompted.

"Two crewmembers have already filed complaints about her promotion, and she may be in for a tough period of adjustment, but I think B'Elanna's going to make a fine addition to this crew." Sentimentality filled her eyes as they watched B'Elanna shake hands with Carey, and she turned that same expression up to Chakotay's face. "Our crew."

Chakotay found he couldn't quite hold her gaze. He saw that she was sincere just then, but of course the _sentiment _was sincere, a peaceful life working together was what they all wanted, himself included, but that didn't mean the preconceptions he'd seen in her today were gone for good, they'd resurface again when the going got tough once more no doubt. "Can I ask you a question, off the record?" Janeway nodded obligingly as they both headed back towards the stairs. "If things had happened differently, and we were on the Valjean now instead of Voyager, would you have served under me?"

Janeway smirked to herself as they reached the lower level, turning to face him full on as she answered gaily, "One of the nice things about being Captain is that you can keep some things to yourself."

Chakotay, thankfully, didn't need to think up a suitable reply to that as the Doctor impatiently hailed the Captain. As Janeway concentrated on answering his plea for repairs, then began to mill around among the Engineering staff, Chakotay saw Seven frowning at him disapprovingly.

"Why did you ask her such a question Chakotay?" she queried wearily, "Surely you knew she would be coy with you."

"You and your enhanced hearing…" He muttered as, feeling brazen, he looped his arm securely around her waist despite being in public. "You're right." He admitted, "I didn't expect her to give me an honest answer."

"It wasn't even dishonest, it was evasive." Seven said disparagingly, making Chakotay smile at her fondly. Seven hated dishonesty, he knew that, but evasiveness disturbed the girl who'd been raised to catalogue things as purely black or white even more.

"Maybe so, but what do you think I would've said to her if our positions _had _been reversed and she'd just asked me that question?"

"I suspect our situation would be even more volatile if the Captain had been dethroned from her customary position of superiority." Seven replied seriously, "It will do you no good to take comfort in such imaginings Chakotay, this is reality."

"Believe me, I know." Chakotay assured her just as seriously, "It was just a lapse into curiosity Seven, really. I do need to learn to judge the woman's reactions after all." As Seven nodded in acknowledgement of his point, he lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers, "And imagination isn't all bad, we enjoyed the holodeck last night remember?"

"Do not worry." Seven responded, "I'm sure I have enough imagination to satisfy our needs."

It was probably the memory of the night before being recalled in all its vividness that brought this on, but Chakotay couldn't help but wonder if she realised all the connotations a statement like that could have. Impulsively, he used her enhanced hearing to his advantage and whispered in her ear until her saw her blush and felt her shiver.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D Whew, am I glad I managed to fit that episode into just one last chapter, I don't think I could've faced it again! There's so much character interaction I love in this episode (i.e. Chakotay vs. Janeway, B'Elanna vs. Janeway) but the actual sci-fi plot is just nightmarish to understand. What the writers were thinking when they put such a weird, convoluted anomaly in the series' **_**third **_**episode when everything should be getting established I'll never know. **


	74. Low Deuterium Breakfasts

**A/n: I hope no one really objects to my decision to skip over S01xE04 'Time and Again'. Re-working it for this AU was proving an uphill battle for me; 'Parallax' was difficult enough for me to wrap my head around, and since the time-travel element meant that only Kes vaguely remembered what had happened, I decided just to focus on the next episode's arc 'Phage'. **

"Are we still en-route to that rogue planetoid Neelix indicated had a ready supply of deuterium?" Captain Janeway asked as her good morning gambit as she walked onto the Bridge from her Ready Room, smiling encouragingly around the faces which glanced up from their workstations upon her entrance.

"We changed course as soon as Neelix recommended the planet last night." Chakotay reminded her as she settled down on her chair, her 'lucky' coffee cup grasped tightly in hand. They were certainly in need of some good fortune. Not that she wasn't glad that the past month had been relatively quiet, no predatory Kazon squadrons or time twisting anomalies, but those first few difficult days, though now behind them, had made a serious dent in their deuterium stocks and of course as they continued to persevere in charting the route home their power supply was only becoming more precarious. "We should be there within the hour."

Janeway allowed herself a small exhalation of relief, "Good. These ration restrictions are undermining the importance of breakfast." She held up her mug as evidence, "This coffee is at half my usual strength."

"I'm sure drinking twice as many cups to compensate won't bother you too much." Chakotay replied with a wry chuckle, his shoulders relaxing as he saw Janeway laughed. The atmosphere between the two of them had smoothed over somewhat, although he wouldn't call it warm yet. It felt like a step forward to feel comfortable enough to tease her even so mildly. "But I get what you mean. This was my fourth morning in a row eating vacuum packed oatmeal. Although Seven has promised me something different for my birthday…" He turned his head to smile at the Science Officer standing at her station behind him, "You could always do wonders with what we had with Maquis rations."

Seven felt herself blush under the light of the public praise. In general they'd been even more private with their relationship than the Captain likely expected, and they preferred it that way, but Chakotay had told her frankly that privacy didn't mean secrecy, and she had to admit that she liked and needed that reassurance, daily life among Borg fearing strangers wasn't exactly good for her self-esteem. "It won't be oatmeal, but I doubt it'll be a new recipe, there are only so many edible combinations of emergency rations." She informed him, though Chakotay's smile remained.

Janeway also smiled, a little saddened to revert the conversation back to duty when Seven's stoic face had softened for once. "Well, I'll help you two eat the cake you'll be able to bake if we can get to this deuterium. Are we in range to be able to get clear scans of the planetoid?"

Seven nodded swiftly, "Yes Captain. The planet's deuterium reserves are apparently even richer than Neelix suspected."

Chakotay frowned as he heard a hint of apprehension in her tone, "Apparently?" he echoed.

Seven tensed at once, but her voice remained deliberately level. "I am…confused as to why this deuterium supply appears to be untapped. Resources are sparse in this region, but it is heavily populated and contested. Under such circumstances I would've expected this planet to have been depleted."

"But it seems to be sitting waiting here for us like a treasure chest…" The Captain mused.

"Or a Trojan horse." Chakotay added tightly.

"Maybe the usual inhabitants of this region just don't have the scanning range we have to pick up on this deuterium, or don't have the ability to mine it." Harry pointed out.

"That is possible." Seven agreed, "There are multiple explanations, both benign and threatening."

"Have you considered that it could just be luck that we've stumbled on this planet before anyone else?" Tom questioned drily.

"I'm not about to say that we're not due some luck Tom…" The Captain broke in, "But that fact and more than a little desperation means that we should be all the more careful." She concluded as she rose from her chair, standing composedly in front of Chakotay, "I'm going down to my dining room for a late breakfast, but call me as soon as we're in orbit of the planet." She began to move towards the turbolift, but paused thoughtfully by Seven's console, "Keep an eye out for alien vessels, we can get detailed readings of the planet when we get there, but I'd like to know if we're heading towards an ambush as soon as possible, we don't have the power reserves to be chasing red herrings when we could be looking for another source of deuterium."

"Understood Captain." Seven said approvingly, "I will attempt to increase the scope and acuity of the long-range sensors."

"Okay, you can ask B'Elanna for some engineering support, but she needs to focus on our ore refinement capabilities." The Captain replied, expectation lightening her frame as she stepped into the turbolift.

"Have a good breakfast Captain!" Harry suddenly burst out with an awkward smile.

Janeway's eyebrows shot up at that, but replied pleasantly just before the turbolift's doors shut, "Thank you Ensign."

Tom began to snicker as soon as the Captain had safely descended a few floors, "'Have a good breakfast'?" He repeated, "Well, at least you didn't call her ma'am at the same time."

Harry's jaw clenched self-consciously, "I just said that because…" He sighed anxiously, "I don't think she'll be happy when she gets down there, that's all. I was in the Mess Hall for breakfast before I started this shift and, well, Neelix has kind of…requisitioned her dining hall."

"Requisitioned?" Chakotay asked uneasily, "For what exactly?"

"He decided Voyager needed a galley." Harry revealed ruefully.

The whole Bridge fell ominously silent for a moment before Tom coughed as he tried not to laugh, "I suppose we'll finally get to sample Neelix's culinary accomplishments."

"From what I could see, most of his dishes are smoke favoured." Harry explained grimly, "He hasn't quite mastered the stove he cobbled together."

"How is it even possible to 'cobble together' a stove?" Tom questioned incredulously.

"By rewiring some power conduits I presume." Seven answered simply, "I do not see the problem with Mr Neelix's initiative. The Captain does not require a private dining room."

"I think she'd argue with you on that Seven, it's one of the privileges afforded by a captaincy…" Harry began nervously.

"Privilege is irrelevant." Seven replied nonchalantly, without looking up from the scans she was running.

Tom spun around in his pilot's chair to face her, now it was his turn to arch his brows. "I never would've pegged you as a strict egalitarian Seven."

"It has nothing to do with egalitarianism." Seven assured him coolly, but with conviction soon entering her voice as she elaborated, "In Voyager's situation we must be as efficient as possible and a galley is certainly more useful than a private dining room for any single crewmember." She slipped easily off her high horse with a conceding smirk, "Although I suspect Neelix's meals may fill Sickbay to the point where any efficiency would be cancelled out."

"Yeah, I'll let you take the task of warning the EMH." Tom agreed through his laughter.

Chakotay felt free now that Janeway had left to move to join Seven at her console, squeezing her shoulder as she peered anxiously down at the scan readings, too distracted to respond to Tom's teasing."We may be laughing now, but we won't be if there are no more replicator rations to supplement Neelix's efforts. Let's hope we're lucky today after all."

**A/n: Please review. Thanks to cojack for updating 'Recharting the Course', another exciting C/7 saga! :D**


	75. Organs of State

**A/n: There are three great stories for me to recommend, seraphim2db has completed his C/7 epic 'Annika and the Emissary', Alaster Boneman has updated 'The Devil You Know' and The Cheshire Cheese has posted several chapters of an exploration of what Voyager's evil mirror universe counterparts could be like, called 'Fairest in the Universe'. Check these out after letting me know what you think of this chapter. :)**

"…and I just thought that, with everyone complaining about the food rations, I'd better put my cooking skills to use, and for that I need a galley. I only chose that space because it connected onto the Mess Hall, if I'd had any inkling _whatsoever_ that it was designated to be the Captain's private dining room, then of course I would've never presumed to…"

Chakotay wasn't sure whether to laugh or sigh with exasperation; though Neelix's earnestly anxious, and increasingly frantic, explanation of his galley innovation had inspired sympathy for him at first, the feeling was now wearing more than a little thin since it had been the sole topic of their one-sided conversation ever since they'd left Voyager on this away mission. "I'm sure the Captain will come to appreciate your…ingenuity Neelix." He assured him quietly, finally allowing the smile that had been fighting to come to the surface pull at his lips as he added, "Seven said she thought it was an efficient idea, and that's a big compliment coming from her." Efficient or not, Chakotay would've traded a week's worth of those god-awful rations to have been in the Mess Hall to witness Janeway's reaction.

Neelix brightened at once, only Seven of Nine inspired as much awe in him as Captain Janeway herself did. "Really?"

"It's true." Harry Kim piped in, his perplexed frown as he stared down at his tricorder, which told of deuterium he couldn't yet see, smoothing out slightly as he glanced up, "I heard her say it myself, and if you're cooking is as good as you say it is, everyone on board will end up agreeing with her."

"Oh, I'd never exaggerate something like that Ensign!" Neelix exclaimed passionately, unaware of Chakotay's eyebrows rising behind him. Harry was hardly able to keep a straight face. "It would be a discredit to tried and true chefs!"

Chakotay decided not to remind him that they'd yet to taste his cooking, since Seven had already warned them that a Talaxian's palette was quite unique, and instead gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'd just check with the Captain first next time to be on the safe side, okay?" he advised good-humouredly, though the words left a note of bitterness stewing in his mouth. By conservative estimates, it seemed like he, and indeed everyone, would have to check in with the Captain for permission for the rest of their lives. He shook his head as he looked down at his own tricorder again, "Are you seeing anything promising Ensign?"

"According to the tricorders sir, we're surrounded by rich veins of deuterium on all sides, but it could be ghost readings since we should've found some by now." Harry replied pensively.

"Oh, it's here." Neelix said with conviction, "This planet is famed as a source of deuterium over 20 star systems."

"But you haven't actually been here, or met someone who has?" Chakotay guessed, his heart beginning to drop.

His guess proved astute as Neelix swallowed hard, becoming even more shamefaced. "Well, no, but…"

Chakotay lifted a hand to silence him, "It's okay Mr Neelix. All of our sensors tell us it's here, it just seems like we're going to have to look for it a bit harder." He glanced speculatively around the cavern, it seemed to stretch out into several narrower, but still perfectly passable, tunnels, like spokes on a wheel. "We'll split up, using this central area as our rendezvous point. Keep comm. lines open, I want regular contact whether you've found anything or not."

"Yes sir." Harry and Neelix replied in unison. The Talaxian immediately headed eagerly down one of the tunnels, desperate to redeem his advice to pursue this away mission, while Harry headed down the opposite tunnel more warily, ready to put his Academy survival course to good use.

Chakotay then was left with the third tunnel, but he only had to walk a few metres, scanning the rocky walls and ceiling with his eyes as well as his tricorder, for his doubts to intensify. He'd been down a couple of deuterium mines in his life, some cousins on his mother's side had made their living that way despite their tribe's disapproval, and this place had none of the geological traits he'd observed then. In fact, to his eyes it seemed more like an underground complex, constructed rather expanded haphazardly to follow mineral veins as he would've expected. These tunnels, no corridors, were just too perfect to be natural. He tapped his comm. badge, "I'm not seeing any deuterium formations here. Any luck on your end Mr Kim?"

"No Commander." Harry replied, "There's no change in the readings, or in what I'm finding."

"What about you Neelix?" Chakotay queried.

"I'm picking up higher readings, there's a new cavern here." Neelix answered excitedly, "I'm heading in to check it out."

"No, stay where you are for now Neelix. I'm going to call Voyager and see if they can get more detailed readings on the deuterium from orbit." Chakotay told him firmly.

The Talaxian's voice wavered with temptation, "But it's right here Commander…"

Chakotay sighed tiredly as he tapped his comm. badge a second time to open a link to Voyager. "Chakotay to Voyager."

"Here Commander." Janeway answered swiftly, "Have you got any good news for us?"

"Not as yet Captain." Chakotay replied, "We're having a lot of trouble pinpointing the location of the deuterium with just our tricorders, is there anyway you can direct us from up there?"

Janeway frowned thoughtfully as she sat forward in her chair, "We beamed you down to the area with the highest concentration of deuterium that we could detect. I wonder if that same high concentration is causing sensor interference, it's uncommon, but not unheard of…"

Seven stood up from the Bridge's largest station, the one which monitored Engineering, where she had been helping B'Elanna to fine-tune the plan to convert the auxiliary impulse reactor into a deuterium refinery. "I can deploy certain scanning methods which may provide a clearer picture of the situation Captain." She suggested smoothly.

"Do it." The Captain agreed decisively, "Help is on hand Commander." She assured Chakotay quickly before glancing over her shoulder at Seven, who had already moved to the Ops station and was dialling in commands. "Do you see the problem?" she asked curiously.

"No…" Seven answered, brows puckering. "Wait, I will try something else." Janeway almost jumped as a few seconds later she heard the stoic Seven inhale sharply.

"What is it?" she demanded, hand hovering instinctively over her comm. badge, her only link to her away team.

"Species 42…" Seven murmured faintly, her throat convulsing for a moment. To Janeway's eyes she appeared utterly nauseated as she stared down at the console readings. "Viidians. It's a trap!" Her professionally impassive face was white with fear as she somehow beat the Captain to it and slammed her hand into her comm. badge, her stance so brittle with tension that it looked as if her arm would be snapped off by the sudden movement. "Chakotay, get out of there, _now_!"

Chakotay shuddered, knowing that it had to be serious for Seven to intervene, and with genuine terror infecting her voice, a rare enough occurrence for the feeling to transfer to him wholeheartedly, no questions asked. "Kim, Neelix, prepare for an emergency beam out!" he ordered down the comm. line, his own words still trailing a crackling echo when a horrible, animalistic howl of fear that he recognised by instinct rather than by ear as Neelix's reverberated chillingly through the multiple strands of the web like underground cavern. "Kim!" he yelled as a rallying cry, setting off towards Neelix, his pace increasing in desperation as he heard no more from the Talaxian.

Harry, coming in from the other side, skidded to halt next to Neelix's body just before Chakotay reached him. "Commander!" he called out for help as he tried to steady Neelix's seizing frame while trying to scan him with the tricorder with his other hand. It was a losing battle, the involuntary seizing had Neelix's body jerking so violently that dust was shaken free from the ceiling above them, covering the body like a layer of ashes. His amber eyes had rolled completely back into his head as his mouth gaped open uselessly like a beached fish, his empty wheezes filling the air.

"I think he's going into shock!" Chakotay concluded without the help of his tricorder, it was so dark in this cavern that he could barely see it. Somehow his hand managed to find his comm. badge, "Medical emergency! Transport straight to Sickbay!"

"What happened?" The Doctor demanded as soon as the three of them materialised in Sickbay, not pausing to hear the answer as he issued a draft order, "Lift him onto the biobed!"

"We found him like this, already going into shock." Chakotay explained as he and Harry struggled to lift the flailing man onto the nearest biobed.

"I'm not surprised." The Doctor said grimly, "His lungs have been removed."

If he hadn't still been partially supporting Neelix's weight, Chakotay was certain that his legs would've collapsed under him. Harry's face immediately turned chalk white, his huge eyes standing out like the coal substitutes on a snowman. "_What_?" he finally choked out, "How is that possible?"

"I have no idea." The Doctor replied in terse honesty, looking away from him as Tom Paris, Seven and the Captain all rushed into the room.

"What can I do Doc?" Tom asked as soon as he laid eyes on Neelix, proving that he perhaps did have the makings of a doctor's assistant after all.

"Get me a blood-gas infuser." The Doctor ordered. Tom blanched guiltily as he met his gaze blankly and the Doctor huffed in annoyance, "You'll find a schematic programmed into the replicator…"

Tom had hardly began to turn to look for the replicator in the chaos before the Borg woman pressed that exact device into the Doctor's waiting hand. "The lungs?" she asked shortly, hardly waiting for his nod before asking, "Have they removed any other organs?"

"_They_?" The Doctor echoed before gathering his wits, "No, the rest of him is intact, not that it matters without lungs." He answered her as he activated the infuser, sighing as the Talaxian's body relaxed into what would most likely be a coma that would last until death claimed him. "The infuser will give him an hour at most." He said resignedly in reply to the silent question he could see in the Captain's eyes.

The assimilation tubes hidden away in Seven's hand suddenly shot out without her flickering an eyelash. "Modified nanoprobes will increase the oxygenation capacity of his blood." She declared abruptly, snatching up a hypospray and beginning to draw nanoprobes out of the tubes.

"Modified nanoprobes?" The Captain echoed, "Seven, wouldn't the Doctor be the best judge of whether that's wise?"

Seven, who'd already moved to the biobed's console, had ushered the Doctor over with her to inspect her proposed modifications, and it was the hologram who answered her, "In this instance Captain, I defer, cautiously, to the apparent expert in nanoprobe technology." He looked at Seven enquiringly, "How much longer do you think this will prolong the use of the blood-gas infuser?"

Seven's regretful gaze was on Neelix's still body as she answered, "Another 30 minutes to an hour maximum."

The Doctor peered down at the petri-dish now displaying a sample of Seven's nanoprobes, then intently studied her Borg hand, twisting it this way and that. "Fascinating." He murmured in admiration, before the Captain clearing her throat made him refocus. "Of course, what is more interesting at the moment, by necessity, is how and why Mr Neelix's lungs were removed, and, most pressingly, how we can get them back."

Chakotay saw Seven's gaze drop as the Doctor said that last part and swallowed, wordlessly moving to stand at her shoulder as the Captain spoke up, "Can't you fit him with a pair of artificial lungs?"

"His pulmonary system connects with his spine and other trunk organs in too many places for me to replicate." The Doctor explained sadly, "And no one on board is suitable to donate a lung to a Talaxian."

"Then the only course of action is to get Neelix's lungs back from…" Janeway glanced at Seven, "…whoever took them."

Seven sighed heavily as she picked up on the cue, all of the strengthening breath seeming to flee from her body. "Species 42, Viidian. Governing body known as the Viidian Sodality."

"Species 42?" Tom asked, "Does that mean they were one of the earliest species to be assimilated, or am I completely off-base?"

"You are not 'off-base' Lieutenant." Seven replied tiredly, "The Viidians were one of the first species to be assimilated by the Borg, and the Borg have undertaken periodic selective assimilations of them since then."

"Selective assimilations?" The Captain repeated, "That doesn't fit the Federation's M.O. of the Borg."

"The Federation's knowledge of the Borg is insignificant." Seven said dismissively, "You underestimate the complexity of the Collective's methods. Certain races undergo selective assimilations to gain technological and tactical data rather than merely drones. The Viidians have been ravaged by a degenerative and mortal disease known as the Phage for over two millennia according to their own historiography. It led to them having the one of the most sophisticated grasps of medicine in the galaxy." She grimaced slightly as she unconsciously glanced down at herself, "Their knowledge has helped to improve the Borg's assimilation techniques for centuries. However, their advances in immunology have never defeated the Phage as yet. In order to slow the progress of the disease, it is necessary for them to…acquire replacement organs."

The whole Sickbay fell silent; no one even seemed to be breathing before the Captain broke the horrific spell. "Are you telling me that they _steal _the organs of other species that are resistant to this…this Phage?"

Seven blinked, the vague, inward looking expression she always got when recalling her memory of the Collective gradually leaving her face. Chakotay, though he never would've hurt her by saying so, was always fearful when she lost herself in her Borg knowledge like that. As he saw her coming out of it, he gently took hold of one of the hands she had clenched behind her back, not really surprised by how desperately she gripped him as she answered Janeway, "Precisely Captain." She confirmed softly, "But no organ, once integrated into a Viidian's infected tissue, is resistant to the Phage for long. Their appetite for organs is constant."

"Well, we'll just need to find them and get Neelix's organs back before they can satisfy that appetite!" Janeway pronounced sharply, "They can't have gotten far, since they were lying in wait to check their trap…" She looked to Seven again, "How far does their…Sodality's space extend?"

Seven frowned as she tried to dig into the depths of the Collective memory she carried. "They have a homeworld, Viidia Prime, but in truth they are nomadic, as fits their needs. I did not know they had reached this sector, such borders can change hourly, and I have not been connected to the Collective's knowledge for almost seven years…"

Hearing the notes of distress and guilt that were so subtle in Seven's guarded persona that only he was attuned enough to register, Chakotay stepped in, his hands briefly cupping her face before moving down to firmly grasp her shoulders, "And that's a _good _thing Seven." He reminded her in a soft but pointed tone.

"Chakotay's right Seven." Janeway agreed quickly, "We'd much rather have you as you are than pulled into the Borg's information network with all that entails. All I was asking is if we are likely to be ambushed."

Seven took a deep breath to recover before answering with her usual self-control. "It is a tactic that they use, but this deception tells me that at the moment we are faced with a small group."

"That makes sense." The Captain mused, "If they had a large force they would've attacked Voyager rather than used the honey trap method. Which means we have a good chance of getting Neelix's lungs back from them, either by negotiation or by force."

"You still do not fully grasp the Viidians' mindset Captain." Seven broke in sharply, strain and exasperation reflected on her face. "It is likely that Neelix's lungs have already been transplanted into one of the Viidians, or divided between two of them."

"I realise that." The Captain told her grimly, "But we're going to search them out, because Neelix deserves every last chance we can give him."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW and thank you everyone for your support over the last 75 chapters! Don't worry, there's a _lot_ still to go, I have ideas getting me beyond series 4 with this. ;)**


	76. Lab of Frankenstein

**A/n: Star Trek: Voyager belongs to its copyright holders, of which I'm not lucky enough to be one. Some of the detail about Viidian society came from ideas presented in cojack's brilliant story 'Out of New Earth'. Check it out! **

* * *

><p>"Cease and desist." The murmured words were half playful; a weak attempt to lighten the mood, but Seven's grip on Chakotay's wrist as she firmly pushed his hand back from the phaser locker was serious. She made sure of the suitably chastised look on his face before risking a glance over at the transporter pad, where Tuvok already stood in position as the Captain stood at the station giving the transporter tech some last minute orders.<p>

Chakotay must've seen that glance for he leaned in behind her again, his head practically bowing over her shoulder as she remained crouched by the locker. His hand, grazing her hip, was still twitching with the urge to take a weapon for himself despite her warning. His voice was low, subtle, but Seven could still hear its agitated edge, "I've already been down there, _I _should be with you…"

"The Captain wishes to head this away team with you holding the Bridge." Seven calmly explained what he of course knew as well as she did. She briefly turned her head into his ear as she collected a phaser of her own from the locker and holstered it at her hip, "It is not in the best interest of the Captain to allow any harm to come to me, not with my knowledge of the Viidians." She reminded him in a whisper, hoping that their conversation appeared intimate enough that Tuvok was respecting their privacy and had not attuned his sensitive Vulcan hearing to her voice. As she clicked the locker shut and straightened up, she sensed rather than saw him nod stiffly and felt relief begin to trickle into her, but still, when she finally looked into his taut, anxious face, she also experienced an irrational stab of guilt. "I am not Neelix." She said softly, holding his gaze.

Chakotay's throat quivered for an instant, though he hardly looked surprised at her insight as he gathered himself back into his dutiful shell. "I know."

She put her hand on his chest, her own nerves that she couldn't reveal right now for his sake somehow settled by catching a few beats of his heart. She spoke louder now, intending for everyone to hear this, "I am safe from the Viidians. Even the organs which do not directly interface with any of my implants would be considered polluted by them because of the nanoprobes in my bloodstream."

The Captain glanced up as she heard this confident declaration and her First Officer's exhalation of relief in response. "Are you ready to go Lieutenant?" she asked, her tone strictly professional but her face not with some kindness and understanding as she regarded the couple.

"Yes Captain." Seven confirmed quickly, turning towards the transporter pad as Chakotay stepped a few strides back from her.

"Good." Janeway looked to Chakotay, she could see that he was trying his best to keep his face neutral and unaffected, but he had not perfected the impassive mask that his lover seem to have adopted as her default defensive mechanism. Where Seven could maintain the cool impenetrability worthy of a Vulcan, Chakotay could appear silently sullen at best and like a lost wooden soldier at worst. Despite his lock-jawed, unforgiving expression, she could still sense fear and worry emanating from him like radiation waves. "Commander, report to the Bridge. Maintain continuous scans of the planet and the surrounding space. I don't intend for us to be ambushed again."

"Of course Captain." He consented immediately. Janeway had to admit that she admired his self-control as he turned on his heel and walked out the door without so much as glancing back at Seven. She felt a pang for Mark without wanting to, remembering how she'd always been able to sense his worry for her when she departed on a mission but how he'd always thrown himself into sharing her excitement and then seeing her off with a smile. Would she ever see that smile again? Or be able to slip her engagement ring back on without having to fight back bitter, grieving tears?

She lifted frank, thoughtful eyes up to Seven's blue ones as she joined the ex-drone and Tuvok on the pad. "How much did you exaggerate for his benefit?" she asked quietly.

Seven sucked in a short breath, her lips pursing, before she regained her sense of righteousness and held her Captain's gaze levelly. "Not excessively." She answered crisply, "It would be dangerous for the Viidians to steal my organs, they would indeed be risking assimilation, but there are members of that race who are truly desperate. They have been known to confiscate the corpses of dead drones before, although I have no way of knowing what results such action had for them, positive or negative." She took another breath when she saw the Captain's greenish pallor, "If I truly thought we are at the risk of such extreme measures now I would not be allowing this mission to proceed Captain, let alone engaging in it." When she saw that the Captain was still studying her, thoughtfully this time, she reluctantly added, "I do not like to distress Chakotay unnecessarily Captain, he has been through enough already on my behalf."

"I can understand that." Janeway told her softly, thinking for a moment of how she'd kept full knowledge of Neelix's condition and the causes behind it from the vast majority of her crew beyond the senior officers. She looked over her shoulder at Tuvok, "What do you think of the logic behind this trip down to the surface Lieutenant?"

"The deception into which we were led was an intricate, even painstaking one Captain." Tuvok replied, "Anything we can learn about them from this compound will undoubtedly help us in the negotiation process if there is to be one."

"My thoughts almost exactly." Janeway assured him with a small smile before turning back to the transporter tech. "Energise."

* * *

><p>"Well…" Janeway coughed out, her throat continuing to spasm as it was irritated by the cloying dust that clung to the cavern's walls, indeed deuterium free but also stubbornly rocky and, at least to the naked eye, impenetrable. "This place certainly doesn't fit my idea of a room where someone's organs could be surgically removed."<p>

"It is distinctly unsterile." Tuvok agreed as he cautiously began to scan the area around them.

"The Viidians have developed impressively efficient technology for the removal of what they require without having to concern themselves with the external environment." Seven remarked, also scanning intently, her precise, cat-like steps ahead of her crewmates stopping abruptly as she found what she was looking for. "Stay where you are." She instructed as she pulled out her phaser and began to modify its mechanism. A thin smile of grim satisfaction flickered over her lips as the wide beam the phaser produced, spraying out over the floor, walls and ceiling, immediately revealing the cavern's true identity.

Janeway had to gape as she took in what Seven had unveiled. A room as meticulously and deliberately constructed as any on Voyager. Perfectly round, with a domed roof cut out of the rock, though any of that base material had been covered up by glimmering copper tiles from floor to ceiling, the room was filled with what she could only describe as preservation jars, more advanced versions than what would be seen in an Earth museum display of course, but the basic grotesque principle was the same. Each jar contained one organ, each suspended in its own unique fluid, apparently pumped inside by the huge central computer console which rose up in the middle of the room like a spire. "I take it back…somewhat." She muttered in sickened awe, not bothering to suppress a shudder as she came eye to eye with a disembodied pair of eyeballs, the irises green as emeralds. "This is some kind of storage facility?"

"Yes." Seven confirmed grimly, "This room is consistent with Viidian technology in every respect, and also confirms my suspicion that we are dealing with a small party of…" She searched for an applicable word, "…privateers."

Tuvok arched an angled eyebrow at her slightly as he continued his patrol around the room, scanning each jar in turn. "According to what I can identify…" He pointed to the jar on his left, "…that is a Kazon liver, but there are organs from at least 15 distinct species in here."

"But not Neelix's lungs?" Janeway guessed, her heart dropping into her already nauseated stomach.

"No Captain." Tuvok confirmed, then glanced at Seven enquiringly, "What exactly brings you to the conclusion that this…operation is small-scale?"

"Because if the group of Viidians were a large one, there would be no need to store these organs." Seven answered, "There would always be one of them at least in need of any of these organs, probably more."

"If they're so ill, how is it that they can build these advanced compounds and deceptions?" Janeway questioned.

"They are a people with a strong will to survive Captain." Seven replied, not without some admiration, before her tone darkened into utter distaste. "They also sometimes take fit and healthy captives as slave labour to maintain their society. If need allows, they only deplete their labour source for organs when they become too weak to work. However, to be taken captive with your organs entirely intact is the exception to the norm."

Janeway decided she couldn't process that now, instead pushing it to the back of her mind as she refocused on the task at hand, the man dying in her Sickbay. "Since Neelix's lungs aren't here, we should keep looking." She propelled herself towards the door at the back of the room, "I'll take point." She ordered quietly as she pushed the door open, her phaser cocked in one hand and her tricorder in the other.

Thankfully, it was her tricorder that she needed before her phaser. "I'm picking up two lifesigns, twenty metres ahead!"

"They are Viidian!" Seven confirmed even as the Captain and Tuvok had already pre-emptively set off in hot pursuit.

A short, stocky figure obscured by the tunnel's protective dimness spun around with a shout as they came within sight of him. That shout seemed to summon the fizzing gold forcefield that immediately blocked the Voyager away team's pursuit. "I can't disrupt it Captain!" Tuvok exclaimed just before any effort to do so was rendered pointless by the Viidian beaming away.

"Damn!" The Captain grunted as the forcefield dissipated and she barrelled through where it had been to where the Viidian had been standing. She felt something strike her boot and in the half darkness her fingers found something the size and general shape of a tricorder. She carefully picked it up, a piece of evidence, as she sharply hit her comm. badge, "Away Team to Voyager, beam us up to the Bridge and prepare the ship for pursuit!"

* * *

><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	77. Sympathy for the Viidian

**A/n: Thank you to The Cheshire Cheese (lizzychrome on Deviant Art) for giving me permission to use her collection of Star Trek fan art as cover images for my stories. The new cover for this story is called 'Down to Earth'. I do not own Star Trek: Voyager. **

* * *

><p>"Holographic lungs?" Chakotay echoed in dubious horror, unable to stop himself from looking askance at the Doctor's serious expression, though he thought he caught the hologram's eyes rolling slightly in exasperation.<p>

"That's what I said." Tom conceded, "But the Doctor proved the concept…" He smirked grimly, "He could slap me, but I couldn't slap him."

Chakotay had seen a similar demonstration while enrolled in the holo-programming course at the Academy, though the experiment hadn't been so…theatrically displayed. "A hologram can be programmed with a resistance to matter or none."

The Doctor appeared gratified by his quick comprehension, "Precisely Commander. As I've already explained to Miss Kes and…" He shot Tom a contemptuous look, "…my trainee medic, I believe I can create a holographic template of Mr Neelix's lungs from the transporter's identification matrix and program them to allow the passage of oxygen and carbon dioxide molecules to and from the bloodstream."

"It's a good theory Doctor." Chakotay began carefully, "But even if it works, Neelix would be trapped in this Sickbay wouldn't he?"

The Doctor's blue capped shoulders dipped in resignation, "Not just this Sickbay Commander, he'd need to be held motionlessly in an isotrophic restraint to keep the holo-lungs in alignment."

Chakotay turned his head to look at the Talaxian, almost invisible under the enclosing scanner of the biobed from which he knew the restraints would also extend. A 24th Century update on a nailed shut coffin. He had to turn away, "And that would be for the rest of his life?"

The Doctor didn't hesitate, "Unless he can be reunited with his original lungs, then yes, and without this intervention he'll be dead within 30 minutes."

Chakotay saw Kes approach him out of the corner of his eye, pre-empting his intention to speak with her. "Commander, I know that this is difficult." She began, a surprisingly steady voice leaving her small frame as she gazed resolutely up at him, "But _I _know that I want him to live." Tom's consoling hand on her shoulder seemed to strengthen her conviction further.

Chakotay regarded her compassionately, even as his mind recoiled from the drastic nature of the situation. He didn't know Kes well, and somehow doubted he ever would as Voyager's journey extended into years, he already suspected they had little in common. He was probably even more jaded than Tom when it came down to it, but the sweet, unblemished complexion to the Ocampan's character that seemed to so refresh and attract the pilot stuck in his throat as saccharine. Seven's initial distrust contributed unfairly to this impression he knew, but he'd been saved too often by her perceptiveness to be able to dismiss it completely from his mind, even as Seven herself had seemed able to suppress it and treat Kes civilly. He'd also, in his position as First Officer, been left to attempt to assign her duties and been left exasperated as she flitted from task to task as her curiosity, which the Captain for now was inclined to indulge, waxed and then promptly waned. Her crewmates who had been pigeonholed into just as tedious roles with no hope of getting out of them had resented this freedom, and there was already resentment towards her, and the entire Ocampan race, for having a hand in stranding them all here. Chakotay had cooled that down as best he could, given her the benefit of the doubt and defended her, it had been the Captain's decision, and Kes had chafed against the Ocampa's helplessness more than anyone. In that, solely, they perhaps had something in common, she was a contrary just like he was. He had however still wondered what had possessed her, with her overly fragile façade, to join them and drag Neelix with her, but now he finally saw a second glimpse of the steely underbelly that had helped her withstand Kazon enslavement. She wasn't about to give up on Neelix, even if she were trapping him to an existence rather than a life. "Kes…" He began gently, "I know it's hard to let go of someone, that it seems impossible, but you have to think of what Neelix would want, what living like that would do to him." He peered into her face, which was wavering as she heard his words, "Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly, though tilted herself back from him to lean on Tom. "Yes Commander." She murmured softly, "But Neelix and I will get through this, together."

Her voice was so certain, without the hints of desperation and pleaded he'd expected, that he knew that any attempt at a conversation about the realities of caring for, and living as, a debilitated person would be 'futile', as Seven would put it. "Do everything you can for now Doctor." He advised quietly, running a trembling hand through his hair as he looked over at Neelix again, "The Captain needs more time to have the best chance of finding his lungs."

If Kes heard, or sensed, his misgivings through the careful statements, she ignored them, giving him a strained but still angelic smile as Tom's face mirrored her relief. "Thank you Com…"

"Bridge to Sickbay." Harry Kim's voice, tight with adrenaline, echoed around them. "Commander, Tom, you've both to report to the Bridge. The away team just beamed aboard, and we have orders to pursue a fleeing Viidian vessel."

Chakotay exchanged a glance with Tom, whose eyes finally left Kes as he saw he could be of tangible help to her and Neelix. "We'll be right there Harry." Tom told his friend eagerly.

* * *

><p>Seven of Nine handled the Viidian weapon with care and an expert's assessing eye. Janeway was instantly reminded of watching her grandfather pour over his antiques collection, she could practically taste the dust in her mouth, but right now she was dealing with an object much more advanced than an old clock or teapot. "Have you completed your analysis on the weapon?" she asked briskly as she crossed the Bridge to join the little team, of not only Seven but Tuvok and B'Elanna too. They'd been pursuing the Viidian vessel for well over three hours now, but they were evenly matched for speed and the aliens had a head start. She was bracing herself to have to grasp at any straw available.<p>

"It is not merely a weapon Captain." Seven corrected, "This device is all a Viidian requires to…requisition any suitable tissue that they may come across. It is a surgical instrument combined with one of the most sophisticated medical scanners the Borg have ever assimilated." Her jaw tensed as she ran a finger down the spikes protruding from the top of the device, and Janeway realised it had a slight resemblance to assimilation tubes, was probably in fact an ancestor of what was embedded in Seven's arm. "This technology added to the Collective's perfection." Seven indeed confirmed ruefully, as if she'd read the Captain's thoughts, her expression unreadable.

"From what Seven has been able to explain, and from our own analysis, the device emits a neural resonator to stun the victim while simultaneously conducting a micro-cellular analysis on their entire body." Tuvok clarified.

"The amount of information this thing can gather puts a tricorder to shame." B'Elanna told Janeway, a little surprised when Seven didn't spring in with some comment about how inefficient tricorders were, she had at one point reprogrammed every tricorder on the Valjean until Chakotay had lost his temper with her because no one else could make heads or tails of the 'improved' tricorders. The ex-drone didn't seem inclined to flaunt her knowledge too much today though, in fact her mind seemed elsewhere, and a chill of human fear along with the burn of Klingon adrenaline surged through B'Elanna at the thought that Seven may be truly afraid of these Viidians. She pushed that aside now, clearing her throat slightly and continued, "If you fire this at someone, you learn everything about their anatomy, right down to their DNA sequencing."

"Just what you need when you're snatching organs on the run." Janeway concluded, trying to suppress her shudder as her mind's eye returned to that ghoulish lab.

"Captain." Chakotay called her over that perfectly controlled voice that never revealed fear but always delivered a penetrating urgency, Professor Gorvak, the Academy command ethics lecturer with a side-line in elocution, must've loved him. "The Viidian ship has dropped out of warp, its approaching a large asteroid."

"On screen." Janeway ordered swiftly, striding forward to get the best possible look.

"It's…entered the asteroid Captain." Tom reported from the comm. disbelievingly.

"It is not an asteroid Captain." Seven supplied before Janeway had even fully turned her head to her seeking an explanation, "It is a space station disguised as such to facilitate their tactics of ambush, though this vessel is so small that it is more likely to be hiding within."

"Yes, hiding in plain sight." Janeway agreed, "Hold position Mr Paris." She then addressed Harry without turning her eyes away from the viewscreen, "Mr Kim?"

"I can't scan the interior." Harry answered, "The surface stratum is made out of some sort of neutronium alloy that's impervious to our scans."

"Any signs of weapons or defence systems?" Janeway questioned quickly.

"Negative." Tuvok replied from Tactical.

"I think I've located where the ship entered." Tom suddenly spoke up, "There's an open crater on the rim of the asteroid."

"Let's see it." Chakotay ordered.

The image on the viewscreen zoomed in and they did indeed see such a crater. Chakotay couldn't help but be impressed, it was a remarkable replica, visually indistinguishable from most real asteroids he'd seen, but, if Seven were right, this one was entirely hollow. "The Viidian's ion trail leads directly inside." Tom told them.

"How large is that crater?" Janeway asked sharply, and Chakotay couldn't help the expectant dread that gripped him when he heard her tone.

"200 metres in diameter." Tom replied.

"Captain…" Tuvok solemnly interjected, "May I suggest you consider carefully what you're about to do."

"How do you know what I'm about to do?" Janeway asked archly, half-amused. Chakotay couldn't help but catch Seven's eye, even in this serious situation he could see she was struggling against the smirk that was pulling at his own lips. Captain Janeway might consider herself a maverick, hell Starfleet might too by the time they got back, but she was a consistent one, and they'd known her a fraction of the time Tuvok had.

"I could describe to you in detail the psychological observations I've made about you over the past four years which lead me to conclude you are about to take this ship inside the asteroid, but suffice it to say, I know you quite well." Tuvok responded smoothly.

Janeway cocked her head at him, "One of these days I'm going to surprise you Tuvok." She assured him before a brief smile cracked over her lips and she jerked her attention back to the viewscreen, "But not today. I've already considered other options…" Chakotay had to wonder then if she'd been assimilated at some point, because if that were the case she processed information even faster than Seven. "If Mr Neelix is to have any chance of surviving, we have to act fast." She didn't pause for breath, let alone consultation, "Red Alert. Mr Paris, lay in a course."

"Aye Captain." Tom replied, his fingers already dancing over the comm.

"Mr Tuvok, maximum shields, phasers at the ready."

"I'm using aft thrusters only Captain." Tom explained tersely as the Captain leaned over his shoulder, getting a bird's eye view of their slow, agonising drift through the crater passage. "This passageway is getting a little too narrow for my taste." Tom was understating things for once; everyone on the Bridge was waiting on pins and needles for the painful sound of metal on metal, of Voyager's hull becoming too large for the shrinking hole.

"Use your discretion Mr Paris." The Captain replied, nonplussed. "Any sign of the vessel Mr Tuvok?"

"None, but electromagnetic interference is disrupting our scans." Tuvok answered, "I am only able to scan up to 500 metres ahead of us."

"Any sign we're being scanned or probed ourselves?" Chakotay asked.

"No…" Harry began uncertainly.

"Not yet." Seven stated definitively, though she was looking not at any console but at the viewscreen, which certainly unsettled Chakotay more than if she'd simply reported data.

"Sensors report a large chamber ahead Captain." Tuvok declared. Just as the words left his mouth, the tunnel fell away above and below them as the thrusters propelled the ship forward. They were surrounded on all sides, not just by Viidian vessels but by Intrepid class starships, Voyagers.

"What the hell…" Chakotay breathed.

"We appear to be seeing Voyager and the alien ship reflected off the chamber's walls." Harry explained.

"Can you determine which ship is the real one?" Janeway demanded tightly.

"I cannot, the walls are emanating severe electromagnetic interference." Tuvok answered, "I cannot scan them directly."

"Seven?" Janeway prompted.

"I am also uncertain as how to proceed Captain." Seven admitted as she bent over her own console, "The deception is crude, too crude to have even been attempted in foiling the Collective, but it is proving effective against a vessel of Voyager's sensor capabilities."

"It's like trying to move through a hall of mirrors." Janeway murmured, "You never know when you're going to walk into the glass."

"I'm still picking up their ion trail, we could follow that." Tom suggested.

"They might've left a fake ion trail, to lead us in here." Chakotay cautioned, "Now it could lead us right into one of those walls."

"That's a chance we'll have to take." Janeway abruptly decided, "Tuvok, extend deflectors to their maximum range, that'll give at least some margin for error. Follow that ion trail Mr Paris, _slowly_. Mr Kim, Seven, continue scanning."

"We cannot Captain." Seven began as the lights on the Bridge began to flicker, "We appear to be suffering from a ship-wide power drain."

Janeway opened a comm. line to Engineering, B'Elanna having returned down there as soon as Red Alert had been declared, "What's going on?"

"Some sort of dampening field is bleeding the warp nacelles Captain!" B'Elanna answered urgently, "We're starting to lose systems…"

"Shut down the warp core and switch to emergency power!" Janeway ordered swiftly, turning to Harry as the Bridge darkened further, "Can you pinpoint where in the chamber the dampening field is emanating from?"

"It appears to be coming from two one seven mark zero one five." Harry answered, "Distance, 547 metres."

"Tuvok, what would happen if we locked phasers and fired at the source?" Janeway asked.

"The walls reflect directed energy." Tuvok replied, "The phaser beam would ricochet along an unpredictable path, possibly impacting our ship in the process."

Janeway's lip curled in frustration, "Alright, we won't try that."

"Maybe we should." Chakotay countered, automatically looking at Seven for confirmation and support, "What would happen if we reduced the power level to a minimum setting and sent out a continuous beam?"

"The phaser would continue to reflect until it encountered a non-reflective material…" Seven started to explain before it hit her and she managed to smile at him with everything except her mouth while at the same time obviously mildly irritated that she hadn't come up with the idea herself; and people had said Seven was incapable of expression. "The real alien ship for example."

"So we could use the phaser like a searchlight, scan until we find the ship." Janeway elaborated, on the verge of snapping her fingers as she held her First Officer's gaze.

"Exactly." Chakotay agreed firmly.

Janeway nodded to him eagerly, "Do it."

When the phaser fired, it was truly as if Voyager were trapped in a prism, the orange beam passing being split so much by deflection that, for a blinding instant, it seemed as if each mirage ship was firing phasers at the same time the beam was passing harmlessly through them. "Adjusting phaser azimuth to 15 degrees." Tuvok reported as the light show outside continued to blaze around them.

"Wait a minute." Harry broke in, "I think I've found the real ship."

"On screen." Janeway instructed. As the viewscreen refocused, she saw at once that Harry was right; the phaser was stubbornly boring into one ship without passing through it. "Mr Paris, bring us within transporter range of that ship."

"I am detecting two Viidian lifesigns on board Captain. The vessel is powering engines." Seven told her.

"Bridge to Transporter Room 1, lock onto those two lifesigns and beam them aboard!" Janeway commanded down the comm. line. "Tuvok, Seven, with me. Commander, you have the Bridge."

* * *

><p>Janeway knew to expect the worst when upon entering Transporter Room 1 with Seven, Tuvok and a full security team, Marina Jor, the composed Betazoid-Human hybrid transporter technician on duty, snapped her head away from the new arrivals with an agonised face drained of colour. She avoided the woman's wide gaze but felt her own composure, as well as her breath, leave her for a moment as she finally met these Viidians. She'd thought seeing their lab and hearing Seven's knowledge of them had prepared her, but no. The two…beings in front of her were the most miserable sight she'd ever laid eyes on. Whatever features they were born were, even the natural shape of their heads couldn't be determined, so much of the tissue and bone structure had rotted away that her nostrils kept anticipating the rank smell of decomposing meat to match what her eyes saw. Bits of flesh and bone, she could identify a segment of distinctive earthen toned Kazon scalp on one of the heads and God knows what else, had been applied like bandages to weeping, oozing scars, almost floating like debris as what was left of their real faces dissolved. They had the raspy, haunting breathing of those clinging to life. Janeway unconsciously crossed her arms defensively over her chest, her healthy lungs.<p>

She jerked her head to the Security officers and thankfully they recovered enough to push the two aliens to their knees before the Captain before checking them for weapons, giving Janeway time to collect herself. "You're on the starship Voyager. I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the United Federation of Planets."

The Viidian who held its head higher than its companion, the dominant one of the pair, spoke with a weak, gravelly, but still obviously male, voice. "I am Dereth of the Viidian Sodality."

"We're aware of your race." Janeway ground out, "You attacked one of my crewmembers and then lured us into this asteroid to _harvest_ our bodies!" she spat out.

"If you know of us, then you also know that gathering replacement organs and suitable biomatter is the _only _way we have to fight the Phage!" Dereth retorted with desperate passion, looking up at her with the eyes of a zealot, "Our immune-technology cannot keep up. The Phage adapts, it resists all attempts to destroy it. Our society has been ravaged, thousands die each day. There is no other way for us to survive."

The Captain could hardly keep her eyes on his face as she struggled to respond to such an unimaginable catastrophe. "I have a great…" She swallowed convulsively and forced herself to hold his colourless gaze, "…sympathy for what your race has endured." She forced out with painful honesty before her face hardened with conviction, "But I cannot allow you to keep the lungs you stole from one of my crewmembers. We need them back immediately."

Dereth exchanged a long, nervous glance with his companion, "I'm afraid that isn't possible." He eventually admitted, "I've already biochemically altered the air-breathing organs and grafted them into Motura's body." They all looked over at the other Viidian, Motura, who stared back with huge, fear-filled eyes. "They are a part of him now."

"Dereth is my honatta." Motura stated firmly, as if that would explain everything. Janeway now saw that her first impression of their respective status had been wrong, Dereth was subservient to Motura, he'd been defending him before.

"A honatta is a kind of indentured servant Captain." Seven confirmed from her place standing at her shoulder. She was the only one in the room who had been able to maintain a calm, if resigned, countenance in the face of these Viidians, even Tuvok was disturbed, but Janeway supposed she had been well aware of what she would see. "They are assigned to Viidians of high prestige to find the organs their…masters require to prolong their survival."

Motura was obviously disturbed by Seven's phrasing. "Yes." He answered shakily, "We…We try to extract them from the dead…"

"But sometimes, when the need is immediate…" Dereth interrupted, "We need to take more…aggressive action."

Janeway narrowed her eyes at them in enraged disgust. "So now I'm left with the same choice you made." She stated icily, "Whether to commit murder to save a life, or to allow my own crewmember to die while you breathe air through his lungs."

Motura was visibly distressed, but still defiant. "It must be impossible for you to understand how any civilised people could come to…_this_. Before the Phage began, we were known as educators and explorers, a people whose greatest achievements were artistic." He looked up at her, pale eyes gleaming with pain, "I myself am a sculptor of note on my world. All I can say is that when your entire existence is at stake…"

"You don't have to explain yourself Motura!" Dereth intervened harshly, "If the consequence of this act is a death sentence, so be it. At least it will put an end to our suffering."

Janeway had to put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from breaking down, turn away from them to stop the bitter tears in her eyes from falling. "I can't begin to understand what your people have gone through." She choked out, "They may have found a way to ignore the moral implications of what you're doing, but I have no such luxury!" She inhaled sharply, "I don't have the freedom to kill you to save another. My culture finds that to be a reprehensible and entirely unacceptable act! If we were closer to home I'd lock you up and turn you over to my authorities for trial, but I don't even have that ability here!" Her strangled voice was becoming shrill, "And I am not prepared to carry you forever in our brig, so I see no other alternative…" She gulped back the bile rising in her throat, "…but to let you go." Bristling as she saw them relax, she growled, "But I want you to take a message to your people. If I _ever_ encounter your kind again, I will do whatever is necessary to protect my people from this…harvesting of yours. Any aggressive actions against this ship or its crew will be met with the deadliest force. Is that clear?"

Dereth regarded her carefully, "Quite."

"Wait!" Motura said suddenly, "I want to see this crewman of yours…"

"That can serve no useful purpose!" Dereth checked him at once.

"No." Seven told him darkly, stepping forward as she studied Motura without the contempt she held for his honatta. "It can. Your medical technologies are considerably superior to what we have access to."

Motura stared up at her, "You are…Borg. Impossible, the assimilation process is unstoppable. We have been trying to reprogram nanoprobes to reverse the Phage for centuries…"

"I was Borg." Seven replied succinctly, "I was fully assimilated, but I was disconnected from the Collective seven years ago, with my human physiology restored as much as possible. This crew learned of your species from me." Her face softened into genuine, unaffected pity. "I am unique, but I am not the key to curing your disease. It is impossible to remove the code for assimilation from nanoprobes entirely and they are also designed to destroy sick cells. Assimilation would kill you quicker than the Phage…" Her voice finally shook, "…but in those moments you would experience more agony than even you would believe possible." When she saw empathy and belief of her sincerity in Motura's eyes, she touched his shoulder without flinching, "We cannot help you, but you can help our crewman."

Motura looked away from Seven and back at Janeway before turning to Dereth, "They spared my life, our lives. We owe to them to see if there's anything we can do to help him."

As he rose to his feet with Dereth behind him, Janeway allowed herself a stunned gasp. "I'll take you to him."

* * *

><p>"Happy 25th Birthday Chakotay." Seven said as she reached Chakotay's bijou dining table and set the platter she was carrying down in front of him.<p>

"Thank you…" Chakotay began graciously, half standing up from his chair to kiss her, but then noticed that she'd served him something very unexpected. "Hang on, what's this?" he asked with a laugh.

"Ration pack number 25, I thought that was appropriate." Seven replied in a deadpan tone, her hands resting lightly on her hips as she arched her brows at him.

"Yes…" Chakotay agreed awkwardly, not wanting to sound presumptuous, "But I was…under the impression you were going to rustle up a cake somehow."

Seven did blush slightly at that, but she remained matter of fact as she seated herself across from him with a small sigh, "My replicator rations were used providing more…palatable ingredients for Neelix's galley before he resumes his chef duties." She admitted before looking at him earnestly, "I am sorry Chakotay, I do not like failing to meet your expectations."

Chakotay smiled at her lovingly as he reached across the table to give her hand a reassuring squeeze, "You never could do that Seven, don't worry." He murmured, and then chuckled wryly, "And given what I suspect of Neelix's cooking skills, I think I'll be glad of your culinary foresight next time I report to the Mess Hall."

"You have not tasted his cooking yet…" Seven defended the Talaxian weakly before she gave in and laughed softly herself.

"I can wait until next year for one of your cakes, it's not like we don't have a lot of birthdays ahead of us on this ship." Chakotay said, his humour failing him as he ran a hand through his hair, "Isn't the current estimate that I'll be at least _ninety five_ before we get home?" He didn't wait for her undoubtedly more accurate answer, and changed the subject, "How is Neelix?"

"The Viidians' transplant was very successful, Kes' lung is functioning perfectly for him." Seven answered, "Kes has also adapted well to only having a single lung. According to the Doctor, she has agreed to train under him to become Sickbay's nurse."

Chakotay grimaced slightly, which Seven picked up on. "Well, she'll be a step up from Tom."

"You don't approve however?"

Chakotay shifted uncomfortably, "It's not that, she's clever enough and I think that could keep her curiosity engaged but…" He trailed off into deep thought before eventually elaborating, "That whole thing with Neelix and the holo-lungs disturbed me. Who would want someone they loved to be trapped immobile like that?"

"No one." Seven said with certainty, "But no one wants the one they love to leave them either."

"No, of course not." Chakotay agreed, "I don't know what I'd do if you…" He stopped himself, "It's a grey area between love and selfishness I guess, I certainly can't judge it."

"Neither can I." Seven murmured, "But I think that if our intervention with the Viidians had been unsuccessful, Kes would've in the end do in the end everything she could for Neelix, even if that meant grief on her part."

"Yes." Chakotay nodded, "For sure. But Seven, if I'm ever in a position like that…"

"I would do what was best for you, and I hope that you would do the same for me." Seven told him simply, "Let's not talk of such things on your birthday." There was a hint of pleading in her voice, her blue eyes glistening in the light of the table's single candle.

Chakotay immediately lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles apologetically, "I know I'm being morbid, I'm sorry sweetheart."

Seven sighed heavily, "The Viidians would bring that out in anyone."

Chakotay frowned at her worriedly, "They got to you too didn't they? But I know that the Captain thinks it was your understanding that convinced them to help as much as her mercy…"

"To be anything less than understanding would make me a hypocrite of the worst kind." Seven declared harshly, "The Borg have caused even more atrocities than the Viidians for less valid reasons and I have to ask for forgiveness of everyone I meet…"

"Don't say that Seven, being assimilated was not your fault…" Chakotay started.

"And that they contract the Phage is the fault of the Viidians?" Seven retorted bitterly.

They fell silent for a good few minutes, Chakotay bringing Seven over onto his lap to cuddle her stiff frame, before he said ruefully, "How many more dangerous, unimaginable species are we going to meet on this damned journey Seven?"

Seven finally leaned into him as she gave him a long look, "I believe one of your father's sayings is applicable here: 'do not ask questions you do not want to know the answer to'."

"Yeah, that's definitely applicable." Chakotay conceded with another dry chuckle as he hugged her tighter, his hands leaving her dress to run over the skin it exposed. She'd apologised earlier for not being able to replicate a new outfit for his birthday, which with hindsight should've been a clue about the cake, but he'd told her honestly that he didn't care, that dress was a favourite for a good reason. He knew he'd vividly remember his first sight of that black dress in the holodeck, and taking off her in his quarters, until he did indeed turn ninety five. "But I think another few of his sayings are better, 'seize the day', 'stop and smell the roses'…"

"We should obey him and enjoy your birthday then." Seven warmly agreed, quickly picking up the candle and holding it between them. "Make your wish."

Chakotay blew out the flame in a single breath and the extinguished candle fell to the floor as he focused all that desire into kissing her passionately.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D **


	78. Seeing Friends Through a Cloud

**A/n: Thanks to cojack for updating Les Exiles, any fan of this story will love that one. I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p><em>Persona<em>l_ log, Captain Kathryn Janeway, Stardate 48546.2: Our Journey home is several weeks old now, and I have begun to notice in my crew, and in myself, a subtle change as the reality of our situation settles in. Here in the Delta Quadrant, we are virtually the entire family of man. We are more than a crew, and I must find a way to be more than a Captain to these people, but it's not clear to me exactly how to begin. At the Academy, we're taught that a captain is expected to maintain a certain distance. Until now, I've always been comfortable with that distance. Maybe this is just the way it works. Maybe the distance is necessary. Maybe more than ever now, they need me to be larger than life. I only wish I felt larger than life. Computer, delete last sentence._

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><p>Janeway sighed, her mind once again mulling over her morning's log entry as she continued her unorthodox 'stroll' through Voyager's main departments. She'd been met by her crew with surprise, unease, eagerness to please, but without pleasure. Larger than life indeed. It was enough to drive her towards the Mess Hall for her third cup of coffee of the day, though it wasn't even mid-morning yet.<p>

She'd just exited the turbolift onto Deck 2 when she saw Seven of Nine heading in the opposite direction with a PADD in hand and her dog trotting sedately at her heel. "Good morning Seven." She greeted her lightly.

Lucky was the more enthusiastic of the two, immediately pressing himself against the Captain's legs to be petted, in which she happily indulged him. He'd had the ship's dog-lovers sussed out within a day or two, and she was certainly one of them, however much her heart panged for Molly at home. Seven halted to observe the scene, tilting her head in polite acknowledgement. "Good morning Captain." She eyed her, her gaze mildly questioning, "Is there something with which I can assist you?"

Janeway shook her head, "No, I'm just taking a stroll."

"A stroll?" Seven echoed, her eyebrows arching elegantly upward. "Why?"

Janeway grimaced slightly at her bluntness, though she almost appreciated it since she knew that every single crewmember she'd passed had wanted to ask the same question without having the gumption, or lack of decorum, it took to ask it. "To see how everyone is doing." She eventually settled on replying, before turning the question back on Seven somewhat as she glanced down at the dog, "Aren't you just out giving him a walk too?"

"Exercising Lucky is not my sole object." Seven explained, even as she looked fondly down at her pet, but soon she refocused on the PADD, "I am also conducting a preliminary efficiency report on Voyager and its crew."

Now it was Janeway's turn to lift her eyebrows. Efficiency reports weren't exactly within the usual duties of a Chief Science Officer, in fact when they were conducted at all in was in a yearly debriefing at Starfleet Headquarters rather than on board, but they were a long way off from San Francisco and it was true there was no one better qualified in efficiency than Seven of Nine. "How are we doing so far?"

Seven's heavy sigh said it all. "As I expected."

"Don't expect _too _much right away Seven." Janeway advised her seriously, "Everyone is still getting used to their roles, as well as our situation out here."

"I have made significant allowances for the fact that the majority of the crew are still adapting Captain." Seven sincerely assured her, "At the moment, I am more concerned about Voyager's general sensor capability."

"I thought all of the sensors were fully repaired?" Janeway asked anxiously, feeling blindsided.

"They have been Captain." Seven confirmed quickly.

"Then what's the problem?" The Captain asked, bemused, "Voyager is the most advanced vessel in Starfleet, its sensors, with the new bio-neural circuitry, are as accurate and responsive as they can be."

"Perhaps that is true within the realms of Federation technology." Seven readily conceded, "But given the complex nature of the Delta Quadrant, they could be greatly improved."

The Captain's interest was piqued, "I'll admit that I'd grasp every advantage we could get in finding a faster way home with both hands." She admitted thickly before recollecting herself, "What are your ideas?"

Seven handed her the PADD. "I have several." She answered succinctly, "The first and most vital being the building of an Astrometrics…"

"I was just heading to the Mess Hall for a coffee." Janeway cut her off, not willing to get into such a technical conversation in the corridor. "Why don't you join me and I'll look over your ideas?"

Seven bobbed her head, "As you wish." She agreed smoothly, sweeping into the Mess Hall without further delay.

Shaking her head a little in wonderment at the girl's mannerisms, Janeway followed her in, only to see Tom and Harry sitting companionably at the table nearest the door. "Gentleman." She greeted them warmly. At once, they started to rise to attention, and for the first time in her career the ingrained protocol made her feel genuinely awkward. "As you were." She assured them hurriedly, gesturing them down with her hands and jumping in a little too quickly as they settled back down obediently, "So, has Neelix concocted anything interesting this morning?" Even to her own ears, the question sounded contrived, and to compound the impression, Seven, impervious to awkwardness, shifted beside her.

Tom blew the air out of his cheeks in silent answer, but Harry soon summoned up a smile and a response for her, "There's an ancient Chinese curse Captain, 'May you live in interesting times'." He chuckled softly, "Mealtimes are always interesting with Neelix in the kitchen."

"I do not believe that saying is of Chinese origin Ensign, but a 20th Century Western facsimile." Seven remarked, a blush of imprudence creeping up her neck as she felt their three sets of eyes on her. "It is however, an apt comment on Mr Neelix's cooking." She added quickly.

Harry smiled up at her, "You've probably right." He told her warmly, "What do I know? I'm _Korean_-American for the most part, not Chinese."

"We shouldn't judge Neelix too harshly." Janeway said, though she was obviously amused even as she tried to defend him, "He _is_ helping us toconserve replicator energy."

"And I'm sure the gastro-intestinal problems will go away as soon as our systems get used to his…gourmet touch." Tom muttered wryly as he firmly set down his knife and fork.

Janeway laughed, but soon stiffened as the sound seemed to bring on another uncomfortable silence. "Well…" She began, her arms pinning themselves to her sides, "I'll see you at duty call." She was already moving away towards Neelix's galley as they nodded stiltedly.

Seven maintained her unaffected composure. "As will I." She told them, but couldn't stop herself from cocking a teasing brow at Tom, "Enjoy your taste of gourmet Lieutenant."

"Don't worry I will, and the gastro-intestinal problems too!" Tom tossed back at her jokingly as she moved away to stand by the galley, apparently waiting for the Captain.

Harry leaned forward over his barely touched plate, "We should've asked them to join us."

Tom chuckled, "Trust me, if Seven wanted to join us, she would have, but right now she's got her 'on a mission' face on. She's probably going to pounce on the Captain about something inefficient…"

"What about the Captain?" Harry pressed, not quite letting his own impression of the conversation go.

Tom gave a tiny snort as he tried to persevere with his meal. "Ensigns don't ask Captains to sit down."

"Why not?" Harry half-demanded incredulously.

"Because they don't." Tom answered bluntly.

"Well, what's wrong with showing a little courtesy?" Harry asked pointedly.

"Captains don't want courtesy, they want respect." Tom told him firmly before dipping his voice low, "That's why they don't get chummy with the lower ranks."

"Well, who else is she supposed to get chummy with out here?" Harry argued, "There aren't many other captains and admirals for her to talk to."

His point hit home and as such made Tom defensive, "If she wants to sit with us, she'll ask us to join _her_. That's the way it's done."

Harry was ready to let the subject drop as he picked up his glass, but still said, "I think you're working from an old rulebook Paris."

Seven stood by, her amusement at hearing the Captain wrangle with Neelix for coffee dampened by what she could also hear of Tom and Harry's conversation. The Captain's position _was _a difficult one. Admittedly, not nearly as tenuous as the Maquis crewmembers' inclusion, but certainly lonelier if she decided to make it so. Perhaps the fact that they all needed to adapt to the circumstances would be the thing that bound them together in time, wasn't that the concept under which they'd blended the two crews in the first place?

Still, brooding on loneliness, even when it wasn't her own, left Seven deeply uneasy and she forced her thoughts back onto how to best propose the necessity of an Astrometrics Lab, with its Borg components, to the Captain. Just she started to lower her gaze back down to her PADD however, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Ensign Samantha Wildman start to stumble. Reacting quickly, she seized the woman by the elbow to hold her upright and grasped the wayward tray of food with her other hand just before it fell to the floor. "Are you damaged Ensign?" she asked in a rush as she heard the other woman gasp, immediately removing her Borg arm.

"No, I'm not…damaged." Wildman assured her as she straightened herself up, finding that a grateful smile came easier to her lips than she'd expected when she saw how shy Seven looked despite the Borg phrasing, almost shrinking back from her as if she expected anger. "I'm fine." She said more confidently, "Pregnancy just makes me clumsier I guess."

Seven was observant enough to see her throat constricting painfully as she said the latter sentence, her hand fluttering nervously over her stomach. By her calculations, Wildman must have been at least three months pregnant by this time, though due to the longer gestation period of her half-Ktarian foetus, she wasn't showing yet at all. "That is to be expected." She replied simply, unsure of what else to say, and instead helpfully setting down Wildman's tray on the nearest table.

"Thanks." Samantha sat down, still feeling shaky, but a weak smile returned to her lips when the dog Seven of Nine and Commander Chakotay apparently shared gently put his big, fluffy head in her lap. Thoughtfully, she began to caress his ears. "This is a lovely dog you have here."

"Yes." Seven agreed. Her first instinct was to end the conversation there, but a concern that she couldn't quite specify made her want to linger. Ensign Wildman wasn't a stranger to her, in fact as Chief Science Officer she was her direct superior, and Chakotay had been advising her to build trust with those under her nominal command. "His designation is Lucky."

"Lucky?" Samantha repeated, laughing weakly when he responded to his name with an eager bark. "What made him lucky exactly?"

Seven hovered for an instant, then decided to also sit down at the table, though she sat awkwardly, at the edge of the seat, ready to rise at any moment. "Initially because his original owners were attempting to drown him as a puppy, and Chakotay and I succeeded in rescuing him unharmed."

"They tried to drown a puppy?!" Wildman exclaimed in horror, "Well, he _is_ lucky you two came around then." She couldn't help but be interested, no one seemed to be entirely clear in how exactly Seven had been freed from the Borg or for how long she'd been with Chakotay exactly, though given by the size of Lucky it had been several years.

"I suppose." Seven replied ruefully before giving her a direct look. "You are well Ensign?"

Samantha, unlike most of the Starfleet crew, had never developed a rooted dislike, or even real distrust, of the ex-drone. As an exobiologist, she'd been assigned to work under her immediately and had quickly discerned that the girl was harmless. In fact, she rather liked working with her, she expected efficiency and competence for sure, but she was as likely to tackle a menial task as she was one requiring her expertise if it needed done, in fact she disregarded hierarchy so often that Sam wasn't sure if she entirely understood the concept. That was refreshing though, she'd gotten qualified as an exobiologist before fully entering the Academy, meaning that her Ensign's rank didn't entirely match her expertise, and had often chafed under officers less qualified than she was, so Seven's hands-off approach appealed to her. She certainly saw no reason to shun her, by all accounts from the former Maquis, she hadn't chosen to be assimilated by any means. "The Doctor seems positive, but apparently I'm not due for a year at the earliest."

"Yes, full Ktarian pregnancies are term at 18 months. Human-Ktarian hybrid pregnancies tend to mature at 15 months." Seven mused, before adding more quietly, "I presume the Doctor has taken steps to make sure your body can carry a pregnancy for that long?"

"Yes, Gresk and I…" Sam had to gulp hard, "Greskrendtregk is my husband, we had a medical plan in place. We'd been trying for months…I guess at DS9 we finally…" She stopped herself, "I was only supposed to be away for a few weeks, they didn't need a full Science department for the mission, but wanted to get some readings of the Badlands, if I'd known…"

Seven nodded solemnly, it was a familiar story. The vast majority of the Starfleet crew would've never chosen, or been selected for, a long-term deep space mission. They had spouses and children, the type who would take short term missions until they could claim a post on space stations or Galaxy class vessels built to accommodate families. It was worse for Ensign Wildman however, if that could be possible. Ktarians mated for life, generally only taking one in their lifetime. As time progressed, their brain waves synced, in order to promote conception, until it was physically as well as emotionally painful to be apart long term. Since Samantha was human, the effect wouldn't be so absolute, but since she had indeed conceived, it would still be there. "And the…bond is not paining you too severely?"

Samantha blinked back tears. "You know about that? The Ktarians are so secretive about…"

Seven grimaced, "Unfortunately, the Collective has assimilated such knowledge." She moved back from her, "I apologise…"

"Don't, please." Samantha interrupted, her voice pleading as well as sharp. "I don't have many people to talk to. My situation seems to remind everyone of what they've left behind." This was painfully true. It wasn't that people hadn't been friendly, and extremely sympathetic, but the first signs of friendship went little beyond pity, which was the last thing she needed. Her child reminded everyone of their own families, they didn't want to hear about her grief and anxieties when they were burdened with their own. "Of course we'd researched Ktarian-Human hybrids, even met a couple since we got married, but they're still rare…"

"You have little cause for anxiety Ensign." Seven assured her kindly, "Ktarian and Human genomes are very compatible. From my knowledge, the main differences your child will experience are the extended, in human terms, gestational period followed by a condensed childhood and adolescence. As you know, Ktarians mature quicker than humans, that is part of the reason the pregnancy is longer, to compensate, but their adult lifespan is just as long as a human's. It will also be probable that your child will be very intelligent compared to a human child of the same age."

She was rewarded for her earnest compassion by a beaming, if still tearful, smile from Samantha. "Thank you for reassuring me as much as you can. Whatever happens, this baby will be a blessing, a beloved part of Gresk with me."

Seven tried to summon up a smile for her, even as her heart quaked with guilt and relief that Chakotay, as well as almost everyone else she was close to, was here on Voyager with her. "Yes, that certainly fits the definition of a blessing."

As if he'd sensed her heart calling out to him, Chakotay's calm, distinctive deep voice suddenly echoed through the comm. system, "Bridge to Janeway and Seven of Nine, we've picked up an interesting nebula on long-range sensors…"

Janeway, her voice strengthened by relief as she escaped from the galley with Neelix still holding his pot of coffee substitute half poured into a mug for her, jumped on the opportunity. "We're on our way Commander!" she answered eagerly, "Come on Seven."

Seven rose gracefully from her chair, "Yes Captain." She submitted, nodding politely to Ensign Wildman, who surprised her by giving her Borg hand a gently grateful squeeze as she mouthed a final 'thank you'.

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><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D**


	79. Ladies, Mount Your High Horses

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>Chakotay twisted around slightly in his chair, he'd found that it was good policy to remain at his First Officer's post even when he technically had command of the Bridge, as the Captain and Seven entered shoulder to shoulder. "There was no need for either of you to come to the Bridge." He remarked, his tone sharpened a notch by the irritating thought that the Captain didn't trust him to take control of observing a nebula.<p>

"Oh yes, there was." The Captain interjected as she trotted down the short flight of steps to the Bridge's central level.

Seven, having instead moved at once to the nearest console, caught Chakotay's quickly curtailed glance of curiosity towards their Captain and said, "Neelix has been experimenting to create a viable 'coffee substitute' for the Captain."

"Ah." Chakotay muttered in understanding, settling back down in his chair, mollified by the explanation. The Captain eagerness to come up to the Bridge was hopefully more of an indictment of Neelix's attempts at providing ersatz beverages than of her confidence in his command skills. "I just wanted to alert you to a nebula we've picked up on long-range sensors."

"On screen." Janeway ordered calmly, already standing in front of the viewscreen. Her languid curiosity immediately spiked as the nebula appeared; it was unusual even to the naked eye. Of course, it had all the wispy collection of colour anyone would expect from a nebula, but had a strangely definitive shape against the starry backdrop of space, apart from its blurred, stretched edges, it was almost perfectly square. "Magnify." She instructed softly, her eyebrows rising as the viewscreen zoomed in on the nebula's bluish centre. As a former Science Officer, she'd always prided herself on the ability to recognise and even attempt to classify certain stellar phenomenon, but she had no idea what class this nebula would come under.

"There are unusually high levels of omicron particles within this nebula Captain." Tuvok suddenly advised her.

Janeway kept her eyes locked on the viewscreen, but immediately expanded on what she hoped was her old friend's train of thought. "Are you thinking we could collect these omicron particles to provide an additional antimatter reserve Lieutenant?"

The Vulcan hesitated for only an instant. "Precisely." He replied smoothly.

"Senior officers, report to the Bridge." The Captain swiftly ordered down the comm. line, "Commander, set a new course." She perched confidently on her big chair, a wide smile pulling at her lips, "There's coffee in that nebula."

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><p>"Exploring this nebula should raise some spirits around here, don't you think Commander?" The Captain said companionably, leaning over the arm of her chair in order to easily look him in the face.<p>

"No way to go but up." Chakotay replied cautiously, half amused by her tone, she spoke as if they were co-conspirators in arranging a surprise birthday party rather than leading their crew into an uncharted nebula, while the other half of him felt compelled to rein her enthusiasm in.

The Captain's voice dropped to a low, anxious whisper, her eyes flicking around them apprehensively for a moment, "You're closer to the crew than I am." Regret tinged the admission, "How bad is it?"

The question was so sincere that Chakotay, usually highly protective of his personal space, allowed himself to turn towards her encroaching head as he answered with a sigh, "There's an adjustment, a period of mourning that everyone's going through. It's natural."

Janeway's face pinched, his words, though true and echoing her own rational conclusions, didn't soothe her anxiety. "I'm worried about them." She murmured, her hands fluttering around her face as her feeling of inadequacy hardened into certainty. "I wish we had a counsellor on board, but the nature of our mission didn't require one."

You mean Starfleet didn't think Maquis rebels would need counselling in preparation for jail? Chakotay thought wryly. Or your people didn't need to be reassured about the righteousness of arresting Federation citizens? He dismissed these dark thoughts with a shake of his head, after all she was right, a counsellor would've been a godsend, but who knows if even a trained professional could've kept their perspective in Voyager's situation? "It's unfortunate." He agreed simply.

The Captain studied him carefully, "And how are you holding up yourself Commander? I know that the former Maquis must be turning to _you _for counsel…" She was surprised by how much it stung to admit how much of a difference there was between them in that respect, but she knew it was to be expected. There was no 'professional distance' between Maquis members, any more than being a Maquis was a profession, they were comrades in arms. From the interviews with captured Maquis she'd conducted as research before the mission, Chakotay's crew had been one of the closest knit, as well as one of the most successful, groups within the movement as a whole.

"They are." Chakotay eventually confirmed quietly, "I give them the best listening ear I can as well as advice." He watched her intently for a minute or so, as if trying to come to a decision, "My people's belief is that the best counsellor in life is your spirit guide, both an extension of yourself and your connection to the wisdom of your ancestors." He revealed thoughtfully.

"A spirit guide?" Janeway echoed, instantly enthralled, "How does that work?"

"They take the form of animals." Chakotay began, holding his breath for the snort of laughter or the ignorant joke, but the Captain merely waited for him to continue. "A Native American tradition. We believe that our animal spirit accompanies us through life, guiding us when it can." He sighed as he began the usual apologetics and gave the concept a Pan-European twist, "Basically it's what Carl Jung thought he invented with his active imagination technique in 1932, but we've been doing pretty much the same thing for centuries."

"Is there a different animal guide for everyone?" The Captain asked in hushed tones.

"Actually, yes." Chakotay replied in the same tone, pleased that she was interested rather than patronising.

"Let me guess…" Janeway started eagerly, earnest eyes fixed on his face, "…yours is a bear!"

Chakotay chuckled awkwardly, maybe he'd jumped to the conclusion that she wouldn't be patronising too quickly. "Why do you say that?"

"You strike me as the bear type." Janeway answered confidently, obviously greatly diverted by this conversation.

"Thank you." Chakotay said as graciously as he could, "The bear is a very powerful animal, it has great pokattah." Never mind that the majority of his ancestors, living in a myriad of tribes throughout Central and South America, would've never seen a bear. He'd have to look through his family tree for relatives based in Canada or the Pacific Northwest states of the US. "But he's not my animal guide." He admitted, finally bursting her bubble somewhat. "The creature that guides us doesn't define who we are, it merely chooses to be with us."

"Ok." Janeway conceded, but she wasn't quite ready to give up the challenge, "If not a bear, then what?"

"I can't tell you that." Chakotay tried not to sound relieved, what would she think if he had to say a snake followed him through life? It wasn't the best augur of peaceful, trusting cooperation between them. "It would offend my animal guide if I spoke its name."

Janeway accepted that explanation with good grace. "But he guides you well?"

"Actually it's a female." Chakotay corrected her, "But yes, she usually guides me very well."

"Can someone just choose their own animal guide?" Janeway asked.

Chakotay almost laughed, if anything summed up Kathryn's Janeway's perspective on life, as well as spirituality, it was that question. "It's not that simple…"

"Captain." Tom Paris interrupted, "We're approaching the perimeter of the nebula."

"Slow to one-third impulse." Janeway told him distractedly.

"If you're interested, I'd be glad to teach you how to contact your own animal guide." Chakotay offered, deciding to indulge her obvious curiosity.

She beamed at him, he'd obviously judged her desire correctly. "You've got a date."

"Captain!" Seven's interruption was so sharp that for an instant Chakotay wondered if Janeway's innocent turn of phrase had roused an irrational jealousy in her, but one look at her grim face told him otherwise before she'd even continued, "We should call a halt to this mission immediately."

Tom knew Seven well enough to take her word as a de-facto order without waiting for the Captain's confirmation, beginning to dial commands into his console. "All stop."

He could feel the Captain's eyes on his back, "For the moment Mr Paris." She said stiffly before turning in her chair to give Seven an appraising stare, "I assume something has come up on the sensors Lieutenant?" she asked coolly, "The normal practice is to report concerns to me before you stop the ship in its tracks."

"I am aware of that Captain." Seven assured her, nonplussed, "But time was of the essence. I believe we should take the time to run more detailed scans of this…phenomenon from a safe distance before we commit to traversing it."

"Phenomenon?" Harry Kim echoed, "It's a nebula isn't it? One of approximately seven AUs in diameter, not the biggest one a Starfleet vessel has investigated by a long way."

"No, it's not." The Captain agreed slowly, "Is there anything in your scans that would cause the ship problems Mr Paris?"

"No ma'am." Tom answered, contritely, starting to regret sticking his neck out for Seven, "According to my scans, this nebula is composed mostly of hydrogen and other common gaseous compounds, nothing that would give our shields any trouble."

Janeway nodded in acknowledgement before addressing Seven again, "What in particular has got your alarm bells ringing? It's a nebula, unusual and difficult to classify perhaps, but not dangerous."

Seven pursed her lips, her hands having slipped off her console to clench behind her back. "I will concede that it does fit a wider definition of a nebula, but there are anomalies which are too significant to ignore. First of all, the omicron particle levels are too high to be natural for a nebula according to the scientists of Species 1064. The Collective has no record of such a 'nebula' in existence…"

Janeway started to stand up, staring at her with little comprehension, "But those omicron particles are exactly what are of interest to us…" She trailed off as she saw the rest of the Bridge crew start to shift uneasily at their posts, Seven's protestations of Borg wisdom were unnerving them. Abruptly changing tact, she straightened herself into full Starfleet command bearing, "We'll discuss this in my Ready Room."

Seven was ready to hold her ground where she was, resenting the fact that the Captain was refusing to heed her at her post, but thought better of it as she picked up on the tension around her. Her hesitation was enough to mean that Janeway had already swept into the Ready Room by the time she started to follow.

"I called you in here…" The Captain immediately began to explain as she finally joined her in the Ready Room, doors hissing shut behind her, "…because I don't think the Bridge is the right place for scientific argument, particularly when such argument disrupts an agreed on course of action, is that understood?"

"Perfectly Captain." Seven said sincerely, "I only intercepted your orders because I see a threat to the ship."

Janeway heaved a sigh, her stance beginning to ease slightly, "Lay out that threat to me then, because I don't see it."

Seven nodded swiftly and marched over to Janeway's desk, an action that made the superior officer flinch, and pulled up an identical image from the one on the Bridge's viewscreen, "To be frank Captain, as Voyager's Science Officer, I cannot confirm that this indeed a nebula."

Janeway eyed her askance, but gave her the benefit of the doubt, "Because the Borg have never assimilated knowledge of it?"

"In part." Seven replied through narrowed eyes, sensing her dubiousness, "I have also discovered a perhaps more worrying anomaly for our purposes." With a few more clicks she zoomed in the image on the nebula's centre, where the omicron particles were concentrated, "I believe something is causing interference with our attempts to adequately scan the phenomenon's interior."

Janeway allowed herself to be interested now, "And that something is?"

Seven sighed, bracing herself to be contradicted, "It appears to be some kind of energy barrier."

"An energy barrier?" The Captain echoed, frowning thoughtfully, "I'll admit that that's never been seen before, certainly not in a nebula, but it isn't necessarily an ominous finding. This isn't the first documented case of energy build ups in nebulae, calling it a 'barrier' is an assumption on a lot of levels, especially since, by your own admission, sensors aren't giving us very clear readings." She saw from Seven's hardened expression that she wasn't getting through to the girl and altered her tone once more to one of understanding and reassurance, "Seven, believe me, I appreciate that you have a great deal of knowledge about this quadrant, but this nebula like phenomenon could easily be unique. Just because you don't know what it is exactly doesn't mean that we should avoid investigating, in fact that makes our study of it all the more important. It's okay to be nervous, but that's part of the experience of real exploration…"

"Perhaps Captain." Seven cut her off, "But I would be remiss if I purposefully ignored the risks in exploration."

"Of course you would be." Janeway agreed, beginning to feel tired of this conversation, "But I would've thought that you'd be the first to approve of locating an alternative antimatter source wherever we can, it's very…efficient."

Seven bristled, "It is not very _efficient _to risk the safety of this crew on the hope that you may gain more coffee rations!" she snapped, regretting the flash of temper as soon as it burst from her lips, the Captain's eyes widened on a face white with anger as if she'd slapped her. "I apologise." She backtracked quickly, "That was out of order."

"Yes, it certainly was." Janeway ground out through gritted teeth, "Look Seven of Nine, we've had our differences, major ones, and we've had a lot to adapt to, as you would say. I thought we'd made progress during the incident with the Vidiians…" Her face paled further at the memory of that miserable species, pushed to unimaginable limits of immorality, "And I know that I perhaps should've listened to you before when Voyager became trapped, but I do not regret my _reasoning _for that decision and I never will…"

"Your decision to 'rescue' what you thought was a ship in distress was an admirable one…if ill-judged as you have now come to concede." Seven murmured.

Janeway grimaced at the insult thinly veiled by a false compliment, "It isn't your place to question my judgement at every turn!" she growled, "I have the ultimate responsibility for getting this crew home and to do that I have to take risks. How are we supposed to find a new fuel, a wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant, alien allies, if we just hide away and let our command structure fall apart?!" she demanded, almost cringing at how strained and desperate her voice sounded, apparently bouncing off the girl's impervious Borg shell.

"You forget that I have a role in your command structure Captain." Seven reminded her softly, "I know that you think _my _judgement too influenced by the Collective to be of much use to you, that you doubt my commitment to returning to the Alpha Quadrant, but I assure you it is not in my interest, ex-drone or not, to destabilise this situation any further, or to mislead you." She held the Captain's gaze stubbornly even as she finally stopped for breath, "My purpose here now is to tell you that, in my estimation, to enter this 'nebula' without further consideration would be a mistake."

Janeway regarded her for a moment before stalking back towards the door and so the Bridge, "Would hanging back a few hours to run more scans satisfy you?" she questioned quietly, not quite riled enough by Seven's attitude to dismiss the wisdom in recognising her warnings.

Seven gave a birdlike nod, "That should be sufficient time for me to come to a more definite conclusion about the possible risks and opportunities."

"Good." Janeway breathed, "I'll give B'Elanna orders to provide engineers to help you modify the sensor array."

Seven dipped her gaze, "Thank you Captain."

The older woman replied with a stiff nod before striding back out onto the Bridge. "We're holding here until Seven of Nine can run a few more scans." She declared smoothly as Chakotay started to open his mouth, "If they're clear we'll proceed as planned." She added firmly as she threw herself back down into her chair, Seven already having slipped away on the turbolift; like the Captain haughtily ignoring the Bridge's crew's curious, scandalised stares.

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><p>"How did I know I'd find you down here?" Chakotay teased lightly as he awkwardly bent down to be level with the door of Jeffries Tube 22, just inside which Seven was curled, working away feverishly.<p>

"Because you checked my whereabouts with the Computer?" Seven replied drily without looking away from the sensor data node she was in the process of realigning.

Chakotay chuckled, though the familiar sound had an awkward ring to it that instantly drew Seven's full attention on him. "That…and the Captain briefed me on your…conversation."

Her eyes, with hurt and indignation crystallised in the blue orbs, riveted on him. "You agree with her." She stated shakily before ice froze the weakness in her tone protectively, "Is it not proper to listen to my de-briefing also before you come to your conclusion?"

Chakotay shot her a piercing look, "Why do you think I'm here?" He held a hand up to stop her speaking as she opened her mouth, "Wait a minute, let me say something. Let's be honest and say you're both at fault first, alright?"

Seven faltered, "But Chakotay, you can't tell me you think I should have just allowed her to lead the ship into danger?" she said disbelievingly.

"No, of course not." Chakotay answered somewhat impatiently before forcing himself to take a breath and stop himself from being sucked into this. "But I do think you could've handled it better, contradicting the Captain's orders on the Bridge like that was bound to start the conversation off on a bad foot Seven."

Seven bowed her head, "Yes." She conceded reluctantly, before she regained her sense of righteous and met his eye forcefully, "But we had to stop at once, the possible dangers…"

"Yes." Chakotay interrupted ruefully, "_Possible _dangers."

Seven turned her whole body to face him as she inhaled sharply in realisation, "You _want _to explore this nebula?"

Now it was Chakotay's turn to be mildly sheepish, "Don't look at me like that Seven…" He began, "Maybe I do, what's wrong with that really?" He saw her frown of disbelief deepen into disapproval and sighed, "Look Seven, you can't change the nature of the best, most of this crew, myself included, joined Starfleet to explore, to discover what no one has seen before. Finding that part of ourselves, that curiosity, might well be what sustains a lot of the crew through this and I'm not going to apologise for that, okay?"

"I am not asking you to, I understand." Seven murmured, "It is only natural I suppose." Her face darkened, "The experience is different for me, perhaps because I am aware of the Delta Quadrant's dangers. My priority is to preserve this crew, not to ruin their fun, I assure you."

Chakotay reached into the Jefferies Tube to grasp her hand, "I know." He told her gently, "No one should be disregarding your input, and I'll be telling the Captain so, but remember that _you _were the one who advised that we'd need to work with Janeway to survive."

"I have not truly undermined that have I?" Seven questioned tiredly, relief flooding her as he shook his head, "No, she is not so unwise as to risk the cohesion of the crew over someone who is as anomalous as I, neither fully Maquis nor Starfleet."

Chakotay grimaced, "You're not _anomalous_ Seven." He said sharply, "You're you, and Janeway is Janeway." He sighed thoughtfully, "And that's part of the problem, you're bound to clash." He saw her eyebrows rise and laughed, "Come on, you're both stubborn, intelligent women who prefer being in control of any situation. Added to that the fact that you're about as likely to give up on your convictions as Janeway is to get off her high horse about the unimpeachable nature of Starfleet protocol and it's a recipe for disaster…"

"And to amend this 'recipe'…" Seven began, her face twisting in distaste even as his points proved valid in her mind, "…you suggest that I get off my own 'high horse'?"

"Yes." Chakotay agreed, choking back another laugh before becoming serious again, "I'm not saying you shouldn't call her out on any stupid decisions, I intend to do that too when necessary, but you need to build some bridges, find common ground…"

"So that her pride is not so damaged by my censure." Seven finished with a terse sigh, "I concur. I will attempt to smooth things over." As she lifted her head to see his smile, she saw the unmistakable shape of his medicine bundle in one hand. "Although I applaud your ideas of conciliation, you are not really going to take her on a vision quest are you?"

Chakotay winced sheepishly at her tone, "Seven, I know you have enhanced hearing, but it's still not appropriate to eavesdrop…"

"The conversation was hardly a private one." Seven informed him ruefully, "The entire Bridge could hear her impertinent questions. Why humour her?"

"The best way to break down stereotypes is to reveal the truth." Chakotay replied, "And I could see she had real interest, she wasn't intending to patronise me."

Seven grimaced, "In that she was unlike me when your father first told me about his beliefs." She muttered shamefully, "But in my defence, the Borg are patronising of everything free of the Collective."

"You were also fifteen, I was hardly better back then and I hadn't been assimilated." Chakotay replied with a regretful shake of his head as he thought of his father. He tried to smile and lift himself out of the sudden melancholy, making an attempt to lighten the mood, "She can hardly do worse than B'Elanna on her first quest."

Seven playfully mimicked Janeway, "She doesn't strike me as the type to attempt to kill her animal guide."

Chakotay snickered at the eerily accurate impersonation and, with a quick glance around Engineering to see that no one was watching, climbed halfway into the Jeffries Tube to join her. "While I'm guiding her with that, I'll also give her the same advice I gave you, to smooth things over."

Seven studied him for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his neck, "Your father was always proud of you Chakotay, never doubt that." She murmured, sensing that his old guilt had returned to haunt him for a moment, "But he'd be especially proud of you now." She whispered fervently, giving him a tender kiss before allowing a fond smile to play across her lips, "And not just because you're teaching your people's beliefs as he once did."

Chakotay let his head drop briefly onto her shoulder, drawing back as he felt her stiffen. At least one person was peering in at them now. "I'd better go before those rumours about us get even more scandalous." He whispered with an amused wink before putting his First Officer persona back on and crawling back out of the turbolift in a highly dignified manner.

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><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I frequently mention when a C/7 story has been updated, but some of my fellow writers give fuller fic recommendations in their chapters and I'm going to follow their lead:**

'**Sleepwalking' by The Cheshire Cheese: In a version of the 'Before and After' timeline where Kes was allowed to die, Tom starts to question the very foundation of the life he's led since B'Elanna's death as Captain Chakotay deals with the ramifications of his command decisions, the newest of which is whether to help a Borg rebel movement led by one 'Annika Hansen'… **

'**Affirmation' by Gimpy: Every member of Voyager's crew has been left troubled by the Hirogen's simulations even after they've been stopped, but Seven of Nine's behaviour is extreme, why? **

'**The** **River of Time' by cojack: Unknown aliens, experimenting with alternate universes and the similarities they all share, extract seven versions of Chakotay from their respective realities. By learning from each other, can each Chakotay discover their destiny? First story in an amazing series! **

'**Annika and the Emissary' by seraphim2db: An AU combining elements of 'Voyager' and 'Deep Space Nine' canon, with Seven of Nine's fate at the centre. **

'**Black Tide' by Sweetdeath04: Unaltered Endgame timeline. The crew are grieving Seven's loss, but none more so than her husband…**

'**Shining Star' by NikkiB1973: 'Virtuoso' AU. As the Doctor neglects his duties to revel in new found fame, Seven and Chakotay draw closer, but what will be the consequences?**

**There are of course many other great stories, these are just the ones I've been reading or re-reading recently. **


	80. Clouded Understanding

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek Voyager, but I do have 500 reviews for this story so far! Thank you everyone! :) I apologise for not updating for over a week, I had to have some travel inoculations and they've left me feeling washed out, sigh. **

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><p>"Come in." Janeway called softly as the familiar trill of the Ready Room's doorbell echoed through the room. The swish of the door muffled any distinguishing note in the newcomer's footsteps, but she was hardly surprised when she looked up and caught Chakotay's steady gaze.<p>

"I've just been down to Engineering Captain, and the modifications to the sensor array that will hopefully give us a clearer idea of the nebula are progressing well." He reported smoothly, his tone and bearing easily carrying off Starfleet's 24th Century vision of professionalism, but the bundle in his hands, wrapped in what looked like doeskin, was an intriguing relic of the past.

"Good." She replied, her smile faltering awkwardly as she self-consciously lowered the two PADDs she was holding onto the desk. One was a summary, dredged up from the Computer's archives, of unusual nebulas and the other was the file she'd created on the Hansens. She was very aware of the implied concession of judgement in studying the former, and of the social faux-pas in musing over the latter, or at least she thought Chakotay would see it that way. Pushing these thoughts aside along with the PADDs, she indulged her curiosity in another way and indicated his bundle with carefully arched brows, "What's that?"

Chakotay's thumbs roamed over the worn fur, perhaps for reassurance, as he answered confidently, "It's my medicine bundle. I thought I'd offer you this to make 'first contact' so to speak…" As he'd thought it would, the reference to Starfleet brought some ease and humour to her smile, "…with your animal guide and then, in time, you'll be able to assemble a medicine bundle of your own."

Janeway nodded, pleased and touched by his consideration, but still a little taken aback that he'd gone this far. During their earlier conversation, pleasant though it had been, she'd gotten the impression that Chakotay was merely being patient with her, doubting the sincerity of her interest. To be honest, she wasn't sure herself how much of her interest had been serious. "You want to take me on a vision quest now?"

Chakotay smirked at her slightly as he answered with a small shrug. "Yes, I'm willing to guide you." Though he'd just finished preaching consideration and cooperation to Seven, the pleasure he took from harmlessly catching Janeway on the back foot wasn't even a guilty one.

Janeway grinned gaily, instinctively rising to the unspoken challenge. "Now!" she declared in eager, almost childish, agreement.

Chakotay crossed the room in a couple of strong, but admirably easy strides, though Janeway felt her eyebrow twitching again as he knelt by her coffee table rather than sitting in comfort on the couch. As if he could feel her enquiring gaze on her, he spoke up as he began to open up his medicine bundle with deft, practiced movements, but again he caught her off-guard by what he said, "I spoke to Seven."

Janeway quailed despite herself, bracing herself to put up a stout return volley to Chakotay's defence of his lover's behaviour. "Oh?"

"She accepts that she went too far." He told her simply, once more confounding her expectations. "There's no doubt she didn't express her concerns to you with the tact that's expected of a Starfleet officer."

"Well…thank you." Janeway murmured, somewhat stunned even as she thought she heard a sardonic note in Chakotay's voice. "I appreciate your support." She added, summoning up her own grace of manner as well as movement as she left her desk and approached the coffee table, deciding that, since he'd been fair-handed here, she could safely confide her concerns about Seven. "Seven's, or Annika's, parents were explorers weren't they?" Chakotay's only answer to that was an abrupt nod, his gaze on her as intent as it was wary. "They were…investigating the Borg?"

"Yes." Chakotay confirmed shortly, sucking in a sharp breath as his face darkened, "They were determined to prove their theories." He added pointedly, gaining a grim satisfaction as Janeway flinched, "In fact, they followed the Borg all the way to the Delta Quadrant in a Cube's transwarp wake."

He knew he'd let his old, impotent resentment towards Seven's parents lead him into a mistake as the Captain's mouth fell open, her face turning pale as comprehension filled her eyes. "Wait, Seven was assimilated _here_, in the Delta Quadrant?"

"That's what she's always said." Chakotay answered stiffly, his jaw locked. Thankfully Janeway could see that he was shutting down this line of questioning and, for now, she decided not to pursue it.

"Well, in that case, it makes sense that Seven would be against exploration..." She murmured in sorrowful understanding, "After what her parents' choices led her into in this very Quadrant, no wonder she's afraid…"

Chakotay shook his head, knowing that this line of thought from Janeway would get her nowhere; pity was as much an anathema to Seven as a tendency to oversimplify things, and here the Captain was going down both of those routes. "It's more complex than that." He cut in stubbornly, "First of all, Seven loves to explore, she knew much of Dorvan V better than I did and devoured my father's library, created the most accurate maps of the DMZ I've ever seen by going out in a shuttle craft…" He trailed off, not in the mood to revisit memories of days that now, through the rosy tint of hindsight, seemed appealingly uncomplicated. "What I'm saying Captain is, her parents' experience hasn't made her fearful, that isn't why she intervened today, but it has given her a unique perspective, one you'd be foolish to disregard _just _to maintain your own authority."

Janeway regarded him with an unreadable expression on her face as she waited for him to blow himself out. "I thought you said she admitted she was wrong after you called her out on it." She suddenly reminded him wryly.

"She did." Chakotay confirmed, unintimidated. "But that was after I said that both of you were at fault, that the two of you are too similar in a lot of ways _not _to butt heads."

Janeway blinked at him, "Coming from you, should I take that as a compliment?" she asked after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes, you should." Chakotay replied firmly, dark eyes serious and unrepentant before his lips twitched up into a rueful smile, "But the rub is that you both feel the need to be in control, especially when you're stressed, and you're both…determined."

It occurred to Janeway to remind him that, as Captain, she had every right to be in control of things, but thinking back to that morning, when she'd been so unsure of how best to play her role in this new situation, and even remembering her routine of sleepless nights when hopelessness and grief ruled, muffling her screaming sobs of grief and longing for Mark and for her family into a pillow. She'd never felt so out of control, rootless and lost, in all of her highly driven life. "Stubborn you mean?" she corrected good-humouredly, sighing to herself as she tiredly pinched the bridge of her nose to remain alert. "We definitely did clash, it wasn't all Seven's doing." She admitted, "Perhaps I have attached too much importance to this nebula…"

"Like I said earlier, we're all going through an adjustment period." Chakotay murmured kindly, "And even Starfleet Captains and ex Borg drones are allowed that too."

Janeway flashed him a weak, but grateful smile as she shifted uncomfortably on her knees. "Well Commander, I'd like to tap your well of wisdom after that pep talk, if you don't mind that is. Are you still willing to guide me?"

Chakotay shook his head slightly at her effusive language, but agreed at once. "Of course." He assured her warmly, giving her a quizzical look as she fingered the medicine bundle's fur wrapping.

"Is this real?" she asked, wide-eyed, "Is it the skin of some animal you hunted?"

"It's replicated." Chakotay replied, staring at her dubiously. He didn't like to perpetuate the tendency for his culture to be treated like a staged theme park attraction, but neither did he want to lie and give her the mistaken impression that his people were preserved in a Pre-Columbian bubble. "We may be traditional, but we're not backward." He explained with sharp defensiveness, "The only time I've hunted anything was for the Academy's survival training." He cleared his throat in an effort to stop his exasperation building and moved on, "Let's begin." He smiled as he realised he held her rapt attention and began to show her some of the contents of his medicine bundle. Not the most personal items, his mother's locket with pictures of her own parents, a fragment from Seven's Borg Cube to remind him that all life should be valued, a slither of the bark of the Amazonian rubber tree his father had cut off for him, the fire damaged pair of Starfleet pips Seven had kept for him until he was ready to take them back, all those remained hidden under the fur away from Janeway's prying eyes. "A blackbird's wing." He intoned as he revealed that to her; the wing of a raven, the animal most associated with magic and foresight, would've been better, but to find a dead member of that long lived, resilient species was rare. "A stone from the river…" He drew out the water worn old stone his crazy, stubborn old grandfather had pulled out one day from the deepest part of the river nearest home, nearly drowning in the process. "An Akoonah…"

Janeway studied the device, which was the size of a small PADD, with interest. "Akoonah?" she echoed questioningly.

"My ancestors used psychoactive herbs to assist their vision quests, now they're no longer necessary. Our scientists have found more modern ways to facilitate the search for animal guides." Chakotay explained as he pushed the Akoonah towards her. "Place your hand on it and concentrate on the stone." He took a deep breath of his own as he watched her eyes focus on the stone, "A-choo-chee-moy-a. We are far from the scared places of our grandfathers, we are far from the bones of our people, but perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this woman and give her the answers she seeks." He paused respectfully before glancing over at Janeway again, "Allow your eyes to close." He instructed, "Breathe to fuel the light in your belly and let it expand until the light is everywhere. Prepare yourself to leave this room, this ship, and to return to the place where you're the most content and peaceful you have ever been. You can see all around you and hear the sounds of this place…"

Chakotay's rich, whispery baritone gave way to the rhythmic roll of waves in Janeway's eyes, the cry of sea birds calling overhead. She could felt the warm hue of sunset on her skin and the image was confirmed as she opened her eyes in wonder. "I know this place. It's…"

"You must not discuss with me what you see, or you will offend your animal guide." Chakotay warned her, his voice now completely disembodied as she stood on the beach. "As you continue to look around, you will find your guide. It will be the first animal you see. That is the one you will speak to. Do you see an animal?"

Janeway spotted a lizard crawling sedately along a log by her side. It lisped it's tongue at her as she knelt down. "Yes." She murmured, reaching out to touch the patiently waiting creature.

"Speak to it." Chakotay advised.

"What do I say?" Janeway replied in hushed tones as she locked eyes with the lizard's unblinking ones.

"You know what you want to ask." Chakotay answered obliquely.

Janeway opened her mouth, but in that next moment she jumped as the ring of the Ready Room's bell again roused her. This time the wrench was almost painful. Her eyes shot open to find Chakotay still kneeling near her and she forced herself to recover quickly as he closed the bundle. "I'm sorry. I should've asked for no interruptions." She looked over her shoulder towards the door, "Come in."

Seven of Nine swept inside, her military bearing only slipping when she saw what she'd interrupted. "Captain, Chakotay, I apologise." She said quickly, "I should not have interrupted a vision quest…"

"You know about vision quests?" Janeway asked, looking over at her First Officer, "Did Chakotay guide you as well?"

"His father actually, though I was…resistant at first." Seven replied before uneasily lowering her gaze, "I wish you well in the endeavour Captain."

Janeway smiled, hearing the sincerity, however awkward, in her voice. "Thank you Seven. Now, I presume there's news from the scans?"

"Not exactly Captain." Seven said with a shake of her head, "As I feared, the sensor array can only be enhanced so much with our current resources, and at this distance…" She stopped herself, "In short, Lieutenant Torres suggested that sending a probe into the nebula would be more effective as well as safer than bringing the ship closer and I concur with her assessment."

Janeway silently gave her points for acknowledging the idea as B'Elanna's. "Well then, I also concur. You have my permission to launch the probe."

"Thank you Captain." Seven replied politely before her already perfect posture somehow straightened further. "It has come to my attention…" She caught Chakotay's knowing eye out of the corner of her own, "…that I made an error in my behaviour towards you earlier today." She hesitated, "My conduct was…ill-considered." She now met the Captain's gaze head on, "I wish to be helpful in consolidating the crews, not undermining the union."

"I know that Seven." Janeway assured her gently as she cast a glance at Chakotay herself, "As has been pointed out to me, my conduct in the situation was far from unimpeachable. I think we can agree we were both at fault this morning."

"We can." Seven confirmed, her shoulders relaxing as her eyebrow curved upwards. "As much as we can agree on the source of the realisation. He likes to be…helpful in such situations."

Janeway chuckled as Chakotay coloured, caught out in his maneuverers. "That he does."

Chakotay hastily scooped up his medicine bundle, a wry smile of his own playing across his lips. "Well then, my work here is done for now…" He joked as he headed for the door, "I'll pass along to B'Elanna that the probe is to be deployed." He added more seriously, sensing that Janeway wanted to talk to Seven alone.

"Thank you Commander." Janeway replied in a tone that confirmed his dismissal. She waited until he'd departed before sizing Seven up once again. "Chakotay seems to think the two of us have a few things in common." She remarked non-committedly.

"In his judgement." Seven answered in a measured tone.

Janeway regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then sighed. "To be honest with you Seven, I'd probably butt heads with any Science Officer, it was my old post you see, before I was promoted, so I'm very attached to my own way of doing things…" She laughed sheepishly, "I hadn't assigned one to Voyager yet when we left Deep Space Nine, I'd sat through interviews, twenty at least, but…" She heaved another sigh, "You don't need to hear about that, I'm just assuring you that this isn't entirely to do with your Maquis or Borg background…"

"Be that as it may…" Seven interrupted, "It is apparent that we are going to have to work together to some degree for some time to come. I believe it would be wise for us to acquire some 'common ground'." She paraphrased Chakotay's advice to her unconsciously.

"Yes, common ground." Janeway agreed at once, though she was instantly daunted by the seemingly unsurmountable gulf between their life experiences and expectations. She wracked her brains with no success, grinning as an out of the box idea suddenly occurred to her, "Do you like holo-novels?"

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><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D What do you think Seven will make of Janeway's taste in holo-novels? ;)**

**While I've been unwell, I've been reading rather than writing. Here are some recommendations:**

'**Recharting the Course' by cojack: Part of the 'Alternatives' series. Alien intervention brings back memories, both enlightening and frightening, to Chakotay and Annika Hansen, happily married and working together on Quarra… The best 'Workforce' AU possible in my opinion. In chapter 4 of 'Unite' by cojack, posted yesterday, there's a lovely prologue/epilogue to this story. **

'**Borg Do Not Gyrate' by Teya: A funny and adorable one-shot about Seven, then Chakotay, trying to teach their toddler how to play with a hula-hoop, with embarrassing results… **

'**Seeking Seven of Nine' by NikkiB1973: Seeking out comfort food in the Mess Hall, Chakotay instead takes solace from helping Seven with a problem over a bottle of red wine… **


	81. A Hologram Makes A Parody

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>Seven had never thought that she'd be stumped by a question from Captain Janeway, having been lulled into complacency by Maquis bias as well as the Collective's superiority with the idea that Starfleet and its officers were as predictable as a herd of cattle. Now however, it was her own mind that, despite her various experiences, was drawing a blank. "I have never…engaged in a holonovel." She eventually replied uncertainly. As ever when she admitted ignorance of some human norm, she braced herself to be laughed at as well as feeling the familiar stubborn stab of pride that she deigned to ignore such irrelevances.<p>

To the Captain's probable credit, not even a shadow of a smirk passed over her lips, but Seven couldn't be sure if she wouldn't have preferred that to the flicker of sympathetic sadness in the older woman's gaze. "Never?" she asked softly, "Didn't Dorvan V have holodecks to…"

"Of course Dorvan V had holodecks, the colony there had as much access to technology as anywhere else in the Federation before the Cardassians began their blockade." Seven explained sharply, taking a short breath to calm herself as she saw Janeway's cheeks redden. It wasn't exactly an uncommon assumption that the DMZ colonies had been backward, wilfully refusing to advance technologically beyond what the original colonists had brought with them a century and a half before. Seven was the polar opposite of the stereotypical Maquis demagogue, but she did often share the suspicion that if the Federation and its Starfleet had been less inclined to Earth-centric snobbery the colonies would've never been under any threat, let alone in need of the Maquis. "But I never entered those holodecks." She clarified in a more indifferent tone, "It was thought necessary that I be inconspicuous while living there."

"You've spent most of your life living under the radar, haven't you?" Janeway mused thoughtfully, eyeing her astutely. It was on the tip of Seven's tongue to assure her that such antiquated technology as radar would have never found her on Dorvan, but thankfully before she said it she realised the Captain was speaking figuratively. "I should've considered that…" Janeway continued apologetically, wondering cringingly as she spoke just how many times she'd unwittingly offended Chakotay with equally thoughtless assumptions about his people as well as his homeworld. "Actually, I can't imagine that holonovels are the kind of thing Chakotay would even think of introducing you to." She chuckled at the thought of her serious First Officer parading about in costume and responding to a hologram spouting the clichéd dialogue of a novella. His relationship with Seven seemed to mirror how wedded his perspective was to reality. "Maybe I shouldn't have suggested it…"

"I assure you Captain, I know how to operate a holodeck." Seven replied, "While it is true that I have never programmed or interacted with a holonovel, there is no deficiency on my part to prevent me from doing so, especially if you suspect that is where our…common ground may lie."

Janeway herself now didn't think that would be the case at all, but since she'd unintentionally riled Seven into defensiveness, into an apparent determination, she was intrigued by how far the girl would take it, if she could actually encourage Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One to indulge in fantasy and fun. "Well, new experiences are a good thing, and where my sister's taste in holonovels is concerned we're always certain of new experiences."

Seven blinked, lost. "Your sister?"

"Phoebe Janeway." She answered, surprised by how her voice stuttered over the name, a lump she couldn't swallow rising up her throat. "She…she always gave…_gives_ me a whole catalogue of the latest holonovels before I leave on any mission, says that as Captain they'll help me remember my solemn duty to let myself unwind." Her weak laugh sounded like a breathless sob to her own ears as she remembered Phoebe's jovially mocking tone as she made this instruction, she knew better than anyone else that her big sister's mind was always on Red Alert. God, what if that teasing exchange was the last thing she ever said to her buzzing, annoying, lovable little Bee?

Seven saw the torrent of emotion on the Captain's face and was startled to feel a pang of empathy just as strong as she'd felt towards Samantha Wildman. As their journey lengthened, she was sure to experience it again; different versions of the same lonely tale could be told by every member of this crew. "Your sister would know you best. You should follow her advice without regret." She advised kindly, though as ever she couldn't phrase her compassion as eloquently as she wished, not with a near stranger.

"Mark might argue with you about that." Janeway murmured hoarsely, "Not about my needing to unwind, he'd agree wholeheartedly with that, but about Bee knowing me best. He was witness to all of our bride and maid of honour wedding arguments after all." She breathed another faint, but wry chuckle at the memory as her eyes went, with longing that overwhelmed the grief, to the picture of Mark that sat pride of place on her desk.

Seven also discreetly studied the photograph. There was nothing remarkable about its subject, not that that should devalue the fact that he loved and was loved by Kathryn Janeway. He was handsome, in a clear cut way, his hair greying but still thick. His smile seemed to foreshadow a relaxed and easy-going nature, a trait Seven knew would balance out the highly strung Captain. "Your fiancé does not approve of holonovels?"

Janeway laughed, more lightly this time. "Let's just say it wouldn't be Mark's first suggestion, he'd be more likely to suggest a bracing walk with the dog, or he'd make sure I'd get some real shore leave, preferably with him."

Reasonable man, Seven concluded with approval, though she could sense from the Captain's tone that she had probably gotten more than a little exasperated with her fiancé's stubbornness before she'd been left pining for him. For herself and Chakotay, they would follow Mark's lead. Apart from their first date which had held such significance, they hardly used the holodeck, other than occasionally conjuring up a park to please Lucky. They didn't need to set a holographic scene behind them to encourage intimate conversation or enliven their lovemaking, the privacy of their quarters was all that was necessary for that. Her comparison screeched to a halt as she realised, looking at Janeway's stricken face, that she and Chakotay were unique in this regard, everyone else just had the holodecks. She shivered, the macabre saying of 'someone was walking over her grave' suddenly applicable as a hollow feeling descended upon her, the feeling that had haunted her intermittently since she'd been freed from the Collective. Were her crewmates experiencing something similar to what she had then, this wrenching from their Collective? She didn't want to think of the repercussions of that for the crew, she'd hardly been sane back then! Suddenly, she wanted Chakotay with a panicky violence, she should be with him rather than consoling this strange woman. It was merely prolonging the cruelty, putting a bandage on an already festering and deadly wound, to keep up the fantasy that Voyager would ever get back to the Alpha Quadrant. If she followed Janeway's fallacy, weren't they all going to get assimilated eventually like her parents, or at least die? She should be frank now, say that their only hope of full lives was to find some planet and colonise it…. After all, hadn't she had to accept greater losses than these people as she'd been abandoned somewhere unknown? Her gut wrenched in warning as she looked into the Captain's glazed eyes, and she shivered again. If she'd been of a superstitious bent, she knew that she would've made some sort of protective sign against bad tidings at that moment, an apology for her errant, sacrilegious thoughts. Instead of her most honest, darkest premonition of Voyager's fate, she found herself saying quietly to the Captain, "Come, we will go to the holodeck now."

* * *

><p>"This one looks interesting." Janeway remarked as she tapped away with nimble fingers on Holodeck 1's central control panel outside its door, "And it's simple to create a role for you."<p>

Seven nodded stiffly, "As you wish Captain."

Since Janeway had few greater pleasures nowadays than people submitting to her suggestions, Seven's indifference did not dampen her excessive, and forced, enthusiasm in the slightest. "Let's get started then before ship's duties interrupt. Computer, activate programme Janeway Lambda One in Holodeck 1."

With the hiss of the holodeck's doors the trappings were left behind. They found themselves standing by a dilapidated carriage, the harness sore horse that was strung up to it bracing himself against the rain, hooves churning up black mud on the dirt road. Kathryn lifted her head to squint through the driving rain and saw an outline, at the crest of the hill, of a tall, spectacular, folly of a building. Multiple turrets of granite stretched to pierce the brooding grey skies; yellow light glowed sinisterly out of elaborate mullioned windows. A thrill of anticipatory pleasure ran up her spine, Phoebe had gone all out on the setting, her own favourite part.

Seven however, sounded distinctly unimpressed. "Captain, what genre of holonovel is this?" she muttered, rendered incredulous by the Captain's excited expression. She was already regretting the prick of conscience which had pushed her into pursing this pointless, and by the looks of it grim, escapade.

"It's a gothic romance with elements of horror." Janeway answered pointedly as she repositioned the holographic bonnet on her head to see the house more clearly. "That's the residence of our new employer, Lord Burleigh."

"That be it, accursed place." A heavily accented man, their coachman, grunted from his position on the coach's seat. His red raw, hairy fingers were already itching to lay the whip on his old nag's back. "And hell mend ye Missus, fer taking work off its master when most God-fearin' folk wouldna come within a mile o' him." He snorted irritably to himself as he looked Seven up and down with a lascivious eye. "An' you bringin' a young maid wi' ye too, ye'll both be damned up there."

"If I am damned, it is already decided before now." Seven told him in a bored tone.

"Seven!" Janeway hissed, "I mean…_Cousin_, get in the spirit of things!"

"There be plenty of spirits up there for you Missus." The old coachman muttered darkly as he unceremoniously threw what was apparently their luggage, two worn out carpetbags and a battered crate, out of the coach's roof rack to the muddy ground below. The case split open to reveal a few dog eared volumes of textbooks and two crushed hats.

"Wait!" Janeway called out to him, more for dramatic effect than any real sense of anger, but the coachman had already whipped the horse into a lather and the carriage began to careen back down the drive. "Well…" She declared as she gamely gathered up one of the carpetbags and the crate, "There's nothing for it but to head for the house out of the rain."

"Of course not." Seven agreed with muted sarcasm as she picked up the remaining bag, but her hoop skirt was proving an obstacle. "Captain, are these representations of era clothing really necessary?"

"Strictly speaking, no." She admitted as she tried to lift her own skirt out of the mud without much success, "But they help set the mood, help you to become truly involved."

Seven reluctantly followed her as she set off up the hill, skirts swinging. These dresses may be holographic, but nonetheless the hoop weighed on her hips and the corsetry compressed her ribs. She hated to think what real version of these outfits would feel like! "I cannot see how anyone, in any century, could think this appropriate attire."

The Captain waited until her feet landed on the cobbles laid by the mansion's door before she answered, almost laughing when she turned to face Seven and saw that the girl stared down at her dress with a wrinkled nose, as if smelling something bad. Obviously her face could be expressive when she wanted it to be. "It was all for fashion. This was a time when a small waist could attract a husband, and that after all was a woman's sole form of support, a time when a flash of an ankle was titillating…"

Seven tried to picture Chakotay finding her ankles titillating, failing utterly. Placing her hands speculatively on her squeezed ribs, she decided to find amusement in the situation. "I highly doubt I could perform conjugal duties to a good standard after having my lung capacity so limited." She concluded drily.

Janeway snickered despite herself as she rang the bell, "They must've managed somehow, or else humanity would've faced extinction long before our time."

The heavy oak door creaked open a crack to reveal the pale, timid face of a white capped maid. "Yes ma'am?" she asked in shaky enquiry.

"Good evening." Janeway greeted her warmly, "I'm Mrs Davenport, and this is my ward, Miss Fleetwood. Lord Burleigh is expecting us…"

The maid was abruptly pushed aside by a tall, spindly woman in an iron grey wool dress. Her face was hawkish, her small eyes glinting at them malevolently. "You're the new governess? Next time you'll come to the servants' door, this one is only for his Lordship's family and distinguished guests."

Janeway however, was unintimidated. "I'll make sure to remember that, but for now I'll just get out of the rain." She swept in with Seven on her heels.

The woman replied to that with a contemptuous sniff before turning her wrath on the unfortunate maid, "Bridget, take their luggage up to the attic landing, we'll delegate rooms if they pass interview." She frowned down at Janeway, or Davenport, "Your arrival was later than expected, his Lordship has been waiting in the drawing room, as his housekeeper for 15 years I know how much his Lordship detests waiting."

"Then we'd better not keep him waiting any longer." Kathryn replied smoothly, again sweeping past the woman in through the indicated door to the drawing room.

She had the breath knocked out of her by the man that sat waiting, though he rose to his feet in one elegant movement to his feet in the presence of the three ladies. "This is our new governess Mrs Templeton?" he addressed the housekeeper haughtily.

"I am." Janeway told him confidently before Mrs Templeton could do more than turn puce at the new employee's impudence. Janeway softened the effect with a small curtsey. "Mrs Lucille Davenport, my lord." She indicated Seven, who remained proudly straight-backed, striking as a raven in her black mourning garments. "This is my cousin and ward, Miss Elizabeth Fleetwood. She will be my teaching assistant, she has a particular aptitude for the sciences."

"_Her_?" Mrs Templeton exclaimed in outrage, "A woman, a chit of a girl, teaching the sciences? That's sinful!"

"Hush madam." Burleigh checked her in a low tone as he regarded Janeway warily. Seven could see that the Captain was attracted to the hologram, though why she didn't know. His features were aristocratic yes, but stereotypically so, and he had an air of self-importance than was decidedly unappealing. If the programme's writer had meant something by making his name similar to 'burly' it rang hollow, he'd be weedy compared to Chakotay's well-developed, supple frame. "I don't question the credentials of either of you, I've read your references, but what my children need is a womanly presence in their life since their dear mother died."

"I hope we can fulfil your expectations…" Janeway began uncertainly.

"I hope so too. I consider myself a very tolerant employer, but there is one rule that must _never _be broken by anyone in this house." He paused for breath and dramatic effect, "No one is to enter the west bedroom on the fourth floor under any circumstances…"

"Computer, halt programme!" Seven ordered and at once the holograms became statues around them.

"What is it Seven?" The Captain demanded in exasperation, "It was just getting good…"

"Probably because it just directly, if clumsily, plagiarised Charlotte Brönte's _Jane Eyre_." Seven informed her.

"You've read _Jane Eyre_?" Janeway gaped at her in disbelief.

Seven's eyes dropped self-consciously. "Chakotay's late mother had a particular fondness for classics, Kolopak encouraged me to read them to acquaint myself with how humans depict emotion."

Janeway smiled at her, her capacity to be surprised by Seven, as well as by her foster-father's wisdom, seemed to constantly expand. "And what did you think of Miss Brönte's work?"

"It is marginally less fanciful than her sister's _Wuthering Heights_." Seven replied in grudging approval.

"And your literary knowledge makes you think you can guess the plot of this holonovel?"

Seven just arched her eyebrow at that before adding with authority, "My character's arc seems to be derived from Austen rather than any of the three Brönte sisters, primarily I would guess from _Pride and Prejudice _as well as _Sense and Sensibility _and perhaps, given this setting, _Northanger Abbey_."

"You got all that from your character's name?" The Captain muttered wryly, though she, book lover that she was, had come to the same conclusion from the name 'Elizabeth Fleetwood'. "What's your favourite Austen novel then? Even you couldn't critique her too hard."

"_Persuasion_." Seven answered robustly.

Janeway smiled to herself at that, she could see why the story of Anne Eliot, an intelligent girl who tolerated a shallow family while holding out for a past love who did indeed return to her, would appeal to Seven, given the little she knew of her courtship with Chakotay. "I always liked _Emma _myself." You would, Seven replied silently as Janeway sighed, looking sympathetically at her frozen characters. "Well, if settling down with some neighbourhood gentleman with two or three thousand pounds a year doesn't appeal to you, maybe I should just continue this programme by myself another time."

"Then I will return to my scans in Engineering." Seven agreed a little too eagerly.

"Wait a minute, give me another chance!" The Captain laughed, forgiving the slight to a holonovel which, despite its flaws being so accurately pointed out by Seven, was already one of her favourites. "Maybe we should be thinking beyond holonovels. Computer, activate programme Janeway Beta Nine."

At once the faux gothic mansion disappeared to be replaced by the eclectic glory of a particular Renaissance workshop, the Tuscan sun flooding the inspired room with golden light. Janeway allowed herself a grin of smug satisfaction as Seven maintained a stunned silence. "Welcome to Maestro Leonardo da Vinci's workshop!"

The man himself, all disordered ink stained robes and wild beard, spun away from contemplating his flying machine at the sound of her voice. "Caterina! I had begun to believe you had abandoned Florence!"

"And abandon all hopes of a workbench in your place of genius Maestro? Never!" 'Caterina' retorted in childish delight before pulling Seven forward, "Maestro, this is my friend, Signorina…Anna. I know that she'll be interested in your work."

"Ah, is that so signorina?" Leonardo murmured, eyeing Seven with friendly curiosity. "If my eyes are faithful, I would guess that you, mi cara, hail from one of Europe's northernmost kingdoms?"

"Si, Svezia." Seven replied, pleased. "Molto lieto."

"Molto lieto. Parla italiano?" Leonardo replied, his smile becoming intrigued, "Bellissima signorina, bellissima!" He gave her hand an extravagant kiss.

Now it was the Captain's turn to arch an eyebrow as Leonardo bustled away to show them something. "You speak Italian?"

"My time in the Collective gave me a fluent command of all assimilated languages." Seven explained, her eyes wandering to settle on the bird like contraption attached to the ceiling. "That is impressive."

"It's his flying machine, the first person known to attempt such a thing."

"A gilder." Seven noted with a nod, "The wings are not sufficiently aerodynamic."

"I know." The Captain agreed in a whisper, "The one here is based on his earliest model, later he'd make it more like an eagle, but he didn't make a test flight before his death. Simulations prove his last model would've worked."

"I can see why you enjoy this particular programme Captain, it's…stimulating, in a peculiar way."

"It's called firing up your imagination." Janeway advised her with a chuckle, "Speaking of labs, I believe you were trying to talk to me about one this morning before we were interrupted by the nebula."

"Yes Captain, an Astrometrics Lab." Seven's face brightened at once, "As you know, we are in an unmapped Quadrant with what I would consider deficient scanning capability…"

"You've made that point clear already today." Janeway reminded her.

"I know Captain, I perhaps should have suggested my long term solution then." Seven said rather dismissively, wanting to get to the point. "The Borg have scanners and mapping technology that is incomparable with any other. A complete Astrometrics Lab would fulfil a multitude of advanced tasks, but centrally, the Collective uses a system that pinpoints any vessel's location in the galaxy by calculating its position relative to the stars."

"And that's more accurate than our current stellar cartography lab?" The Captain asked urgently, "And wouldn't we need to salvage the components from Borg ships?"

Seven blanched at the question, "_No_. I would never advocate…" She trailed off for a moment, "It's true that it would not compete with the system in a Borg vessel, but by utilising the components we have efficiently then we would have scans that were at least ten times as accurate, and we will be able to look ahead to view other stellar bodies in Voyager's path…"

"Torres to Janeway." B'Elanna's voice interrupted through the comm.

"Janeway here." The Captain replied shortly, impatient to hear the rest of Seven's plan.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Captain, but you'll want to hear this." B'Elanna began, "The probe returned with a sample of the nebula and both the EMH and I agree that it's not a nebula at all…" She was breathless and had to pause for air, "It's _alive _Captain."

"A living organism that resembles a nebula?" Seven spoke up, "Fascinating."

"_Alive_?" Janeway echoed, not taking the time to note how she and Seven's perspectives had flipped with the news, Seven now full of the scientific curiosity while she herself was left horrified. "Then those omicron particles are probably it's immune system! Thank God we didn't…" She braced herself to fully admit defeat, "Seven, how long would it take you to build this Astrometrics lab?"

* * *

><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'll make it clear that the opinions on the books are not mine, and all joking at their expense was affectionate. I personally love all those novels.**

**Also, just to let you all know in advance, on Monday I'm leaving for a two week holiday in China so I won't be on the site at all. I will be back to review stories by the 16****th**** (so write some C/7 while I'm away people and I'll review when I get back) but with jet lag and going back to uni for the end of the month don't expect many updates in September. I'm hoping to at least have updates for 'In Thy Name' and 'The Girl Next Door' before I leave though. **


	82. Needling Fears

**A/n: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager.**

* * *

><p>"So…" Harry hesitated as he took in the half-demolished Stellar Cartography Lab, "The Captain's given you permission to remodel this place?"<p>

"She has." Seven confirmed as clicked her tricorder off, having finished the last of her preliminary scans; they'd only confirmed that she didn't have much to work with. She pushed herself up off her knees and stood to face Harry, "I intend to redevelop this room into a fully functional Astrometrics Lab." Catching his dubious expression, she launched into her default explanation, "Astrometrics is a broad term for…"

"A sophisticated system of long range scanners that pinpoint our exact location in the galaxy." Harry finished for her with an awkward smile, "I was at the formal briefing."

"And attentive while there." Seven commented, her lips twitching upwards along with her eyebrows. "I can presume then, that you know that the basis for this lab is Borg technology?" Harry tellingly froze for an instant, then nodded a little too vigorously. "Does that fact disturb you?"

"Of course not!" Harry answered hastily then flushed as he felt her opaque gaze on him, "Well, apart for the obvious reasons…not that you have anything to…I mean…" His eyes were as round as his red face and Seven decided to pull him out before he fell any deeper into his hole and opened her mouth to speak, but that seemed to be the spur the flustered young man needed to recover, "What I meant to say was that I don't see the problem with using Borg technology, we're using it for good right?" He finally paused for breath, relieved as Seven nodded, even as he realised that the final part of that statement sounded like a corny line from one of Tom's 'B-movies'. As if she _wouldn't _use it for good!

"Yes, we will." Seven replied smoothly, trying to hide her amusement but not sure if she succeeded entirely. Chakotay would've been able to see it, even as it sailed over Kim's head, precisely why his reaction to her working with the young Ensign hadn't sat too well with her that morning. Didn't he know her well enough to realise that she could dismiss Harry's attraction to her, whether passing or ardent, as an irrelevance? "I assure you that, as Operations Officer, you will see particular improvement from relying on the advancements Astrometrics will provide."

"I think that's why the Captain assigned me to help you." Harry agreed warmly, "She seems to think we'll work well together." He eyed her speculatively, his heart rate picking up traitorously as he met her gaze. "Er…what exactly do you want me to do?"

Seven promptly handed him a PADD. "This is my initial plan, I would like your critique. The Captain is particular about the Borg technology being properly integrated into Starfleet procedure as well as Voyager's systems."

"My critique?" Harry echoed weakly, his grip around the PADD becoming white-knuckled. "Well…" Thankfully his natural curiosity as he finally looked down at the plan saved him from having to critique directly, "It looks impressive! From what I can tell, this is going to be…spectacular, not exactly Starfleet approved, but then again Starfleet's never seen anything like this…"

"Starfleet has never had a vessel in the Delta Quadrant either." Seven muttered darkly, regretting the frustrated slip as she saw pain overshadow Harry's face, which was so naturally transparent that Seven had become comfortable around him much quicker than most of the other Starfleet personnel, even to her he was easy to read. "I have reconfigured a station to give an example of the kind of connection this lab could have to Ops and vice versa."

"Really?" Harry replied, brightening again, "You work fast…"

"It is much simpler than what we will aim for in the completed lab." Seven told him frankly, then softened, "Though I appreciate the compliment."

Harry smiled at her warmly as he eagerly approached the altered console station. By 'reconfigured' it seemed she meant gutted and then rebuilt almost from scratch, the console was looking rather sorry for itself, with power conduits yanked out and turned back on themselves all exposed, but the results were there. The external and internal scans that he lived alongside day in day out at Ops now greeted him here. "How long would it take the Borg to build a lab like you've got planned?" he asked suddenly.

"The Borg would have no need to arrange their technology in this configuration, it is spread throughout each vessel." Seven replied, then belatedly realised that she was perhaps being pedantic, too wary of his curiosity. "A Borg Cube takes approximately ten cycles to build, a Sphere eight cycles." She pre-empted his next question, "One Borg 'cycle' is approximately twelve Earth hours."

Harry's eyes bulged as he did the math in his head, "It takes _five _days for the Borg to build a Cube from scratch?"

Seven sighed heavily, "The Collective prioritises efficiency."

That was surely the understatement of the year, and he'd served with Tuvok! Harry just had to chuckle nervously, "I guess they also have access to a shipyard that would make Utopia Planetia look like a Class 1 shuttle craft?"

Seven pressed her lips together, a haunted expression fleeing over her luminous eyes. "I intend to make sure Voyager avoids Borg Space Ensign." She murmured with quiet but steely conviction, "With our current resources, Astrometrics may take months to construct, but I will finish it."

Harry tentatively touched her shoulder, withdrawing as she flinched. Still, he managed to smile at her again as she looked at him apologetically. "No, _we'll _finish it." He turned back to the console with new determination, then jumped out of his skin as it beeped at him insistently. "What was that?"

Seven shook her head at him in mild disbelief, "It is merely transmitting an alert from _your _console." She reminded him dryly, "Do you have any alerts programmed into the Ops console?" she prompted him.

Harry inhaled sharply, "Only one…" He breathed, abruptly snapping his body double over the console, peering down, willing the readings he wanted into existence. "_Yes_!"

Seven finally deigned to look over his shoulder, though she was nauseatingly aware that excitement competed with dread in her gut. "A subspace disturbance…"

"A _wormhole_!" Harry whispered fervently in answer.

"An unknown subspace disturbance." Seven corrected him sharply, "Jumping to conclusions will not help anyone Ensign, least of all yourself."

Harry dimly knew he should've been duly chastised by that, but was too agitated to fully let it sink in. "Verteron emanations…tunnelling secondary particles… Those are the classic signs!" he exclaimed hotly, grabbing her by the arm, "You've got to admit that there is at least _some _possibility…"

"Yes." Seven responded coolly as she shrugged him off, "Which is why we're going to report to the Bridge and advise the Captain to do the same."

* * *

><p>"It certainly looks like a wormhole." The Captain remarked, the gleam in her eyes belying her cautious tone as she lifted her head up from the Ops console.<p>

"But is it stable enough to enter, and if it is, where does it lead?" Chakotay asked reasonably, even as he too stood alert over the console, watching Janeway carefully, since it always seemed to be his role to reign in her more proactive impulses with doubts her own mind, that was a scientist or not, seemed to muffle in her desire to get home.

Tuvok helped him today, "There is of course a 75% chance a wormhole will not lead to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Very true." The Captain momentarily conceded to her old friend, "But you can also say there's a one in four chance that it will." She challenged him with her eyes and the Vulcan didn't dispute her, "Those aren't bad odds."

Aren't they? Chakotay asked himself silently, his shoulders tensing with apprehension as well as anticipation as Janeway turned to Kim, "Any analysis yet Ensign?"

"We'd have to be within 1000 kilometres to get a detailed analysis." Harry answered. Chakotay quickly looked over his shoulder to meet Seven's eye, seeking confirmation of his own thought that any wormhole open and large enough for them to get through should be visible at a much greater distance than that. Her saddened, rueful glance at the others, buoyed up with tentative excitement, told him all he needed to know. "It would require a significant course change." Harry continued.

The Captain straightened up, oblivious to the silent, doubting exchange between her First and Science Officers. "Well Mr Kim, if there's even the possibility of finding a wormhole, I think we can afford a detour." She moved briskly down the couple of steps to the centre of the Bridge with a fresh spring in her step as she instructed Tom at the helm, "Lieutenant, input coordinates and change course."

"Aye Captain." Tom agreed at once, already dialling in the commands even as his voice lightened, "And may I suggest, if this works, we petition the Federation Astronomical Committee to officially designate this the 'Harry Kim Wormhole'." He glanced back over his shoulder to observe his friend's startled blush and added as a playful aside, "Unless that is, Seven's hiding her light under a bushel in respect to this discovery."

Seven forced a strained smile, more to deflect difficult questions than anything. "I can assure you, and Ensign Kim, that the credit is his alone." She responded mutedly.

* * *

><p>"Captain, we're approaching the coordinates of the wormhole." Tom reported.<p>

The Captain rose expectantly from her chair. "On screen." The viewscreen presented the Bridge with only the stunning, but usual, curtain of black, sprinkled with ordinary stars. "Are we in visual range?"

"Affirmative Captain, and the anomaly is still registering on subspace bands." Harry replied.

"Sensors also indicate it's there." Tom spoke up, albeit in a confused, uncertain tone. The sensors had deceived them often enough lately after all.

"Magnify." The Captain ordered, her face taut with tension as she reached Tom's shoulder, giving her the best view of the viewscreen. "Increase to highest magnification." Finally, a tantalising dimple in space appeared, tiny and teasing.

Chakotay took a deep breath, bracing himself for ship wide disappointment. "If that's a wormhole it must be the smallest one on record."

"Are you able to analyse it?" Janeway demanded of Harry Kim.

"Aye Captain." Harry answered in a low tone, "It's virtually microscopic. The aperture is only about thirty centimetres in diameter."

"I guess it's a little too small for us to fly through." Tom remarked in a terse, dry tone that made the Captain spin around to put her back to him and the viewscreen. Seven swallowed as she saw the older woman blinking hard, chin almost resting on her chest.

"However…" Tuvok interceded, "It might be large enough to act as a conduit for a message."

"That's right!" Harry jumped in, "It could carry a compressed data transmission to Federation space in minutes."

Hope mixed with pain once more in the Captain's eyes as she lifted her head. "We still have to find out if it goes anywhere near the Alpha Quadrant. Can you trace its subspace bearing?"

"I can't get any directional readings at all, the aperture is just too small."

"I recommend we launch a microprobe into the wormhole Captain." Tuvok suggested.

"Do it Mr Tuvok." Janeway immediately ordered.

Within minutes the probe had been launched and skilfully guided through the wormhole's tightly pursed mouth. The Bridge crew could only watch in awe as telemetry dripped back towards them, revealing a cramped, stormy green tunnel of particles. "Doesn't look like any wormhole I've ever studied." Tom eventually remarked, speaking for them all in that moment.

"Microscopic gravitational eddies, constricted spatial dimensions, the pathway is hardly wider than the probe itself Captain." Seven informed Janeway, "I believe this wormhole is an advanced state of decay."

"Yes…" The Captain agreed, "It's probably been collapsing for centuries."

"So we can't send a message through it?" Tom questioned.

"No, I can do it." Harry assured him seriously, "Maybe it'll take longer to get through, but the wormhole is still stable enough to carry a transmission."

"Any idea yet where that message would end up?" Chakotay asked bluntly.

Seven now joined Harry at Ops. "We will attempt to extrapolate the verteron exit vector." Almost as soon as Harry had begun to pursue her idea however, it failed.

"I can't get it…" He began, his fist balling up on the console panel.

"There's a strange phase variance in the radiation stream that I cannot account for." Seven explained, though for the first time today she sounded intrigued, "We will have to wait until the probe exists."

"That shouldn't take long." The Captain reminded them, casting an encouraging glance over the pensive faces around her.

"Captain, I'm getting a distorted energy reading…" Tom began.

"The probe's telemetry has changed." Tuvok interrupted him.

"It's stuck!" Harry gasped out.

"Stuck?!" The Captain repeated faintly.

"It's mired in a gravitational eddy." Harry clarified, "And because the wormhole is in an advanced state of collapse, those eddies are incredibly dense." He bowed his head as the Captain turned huge eyes on him, "That probe will never break free Captain. We'll never know where the wormhole ends."

"Let's give it some time." The Captain advised, even as her voice began to crack, "Maybe it will work itself loose."

Harry started to smile at her bravely, but his face faltered as he glanced down at the console again. "Captain…?"

"What is it Ensign?" Janeway pressed.

"Our probe…was just scanned." Harry replied in awed disbelief, "There's somebody on the other side of that wormhole."

* * *

><p>Repetitions of Harry's initial scans revealed that the probe would only last, at most, another 72 hours in the tumult of the wormhole, but that someone or something, friend or foe, was continually scanning it. Drawing hope from this as a person dying from thirst gladly drinks from the murkiest of puddles, the crew as a whole persevered, with Tuvok's warnings going unheeded and Seven's dubious silence ignored. B'Elanna and Harry had come up with a way to use the probe as a signal booster, and now the rest of the senior officers were in the Bridge, waiting to see the outcome of their plan.<p>

"I'm reading transmission of the test signal." Chakotay said without a waver in his voice, making his Captain wonder over his composure, and his commitment. "The probe has received it and relayed it."

"How will we know if the signal reaches somebody?" Tom asked, blowing air out of his cheeks as he spun in his chair to intently await the answer to his obvious question.

"The only way…is if that somebody answers." The Captain told him tightly.

Harry's despondent voice drifted up from Engineering via the comm. line, "There's no response."

"It's too soon." B'Elanna advised him, her quieter voice just about audible through the comm., "Remember we have no idea how long it takes for the signal to reach the other side."

Janeway listened to this, but couldn't be patient. "Are you reading anything Mr Tuvok?"

"Negative Captain." Tuvok told her, "There's nothing that would suggest a response."

"Even if someone receives our signal, it might take them some time to figure out how to return it." Chakotay pointed out.

"You're right." Janeway concurred in relief, "Janeway to Kim, continue transmitting."

"Aye Captain. How long should we keep it up?"

"We should consider what we have already observed from the 'person' on the other side." Seven said quietly, "They have shown enough knowledge of wormholes to continuously scan our probe on ever narrowing bandwidths, if they do not…figure out how to reply to us relatively quickly then we can assume it is because they do not want to."

"I understand Seven." Janeway murmured before raising her voice to speak to Kim, "You're to continue until I tell you otherwise." She started to rise tiredly from her chair, "You have the Bridge Commander." As if bemoaning her lack of faith, all of the Bridge's consoles suddenly squealed into new life. "Mr Tuvok?"

"I'm getting something." Tuvok muttered, even his Vulcan composure was slipping ever so slightly.

"Me too." Tom called over from the helm.

"It's a subspace signal being relayed through the probe." Seven explained, "It is being transmitted at exactly the same frequency and amplitude as our own."

"It's a response." The Captain muttered, almost disbelievingly. "Someone received our transmission and sent one back." She smiled wanly at Seven, "Seems you were dead-on with your guess about them being fast learners."

"Yes…fast learners from the Alpha Quadrant." Seven replied slowly, "That is where their signal originated from."

* * *

><p><em>Captain's Log, Supplemental: Encouraged by his success in sending a signal to the Alpha Quadrant, Mr Kim is investigating the possibility of establishing a voice link with whoever is at the other end of the wormhole.<em>

* * *

><p>"Okay, we'll be ready to go online in a couple of minutes." Harry declared quickly as he made a sweeping overview of the multiple systems needed for this to work.<p>

B'Elanna threw in a word of caution, "I'm still worried about the gravitational interference. I don't think the co-variant isolator will be effective with the vocal transmission."

"We cannot find an absolute solution to that without having certainty as to what's causing the interference." Seven remarked with authority, though she was holding herself distant from the bustle of activity at the consoles. "But you should try inverting the narrowband filter." She suggested, B'Elanna irritably hoped she was imagining the reticence in the ex-drone's drone even as she proceeded to follow her advice.

The Captain strode determinedly out of her Ready Room. "Progress report Ensign?"

"I think we're ready to give it a try." Harry told her, hope fighting its way into his tone before his sense of proportion flattened it, "But we're pushing through some pretty heavy gravitational interference, I can't guarantee the clarity of the transmission."

"Let's see what happens." Janeway replied gamely before swinging around to cross the Bridge, hands on hips, as if marking her territory; her usual habit when she launched into her self-introduction, a dance that summoned up all her confidence and projected it down the comm. line. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. Do you read?"

The reply that hit everyone's ears was a growl of static. "I'll narrow the filter band some more." B'Elanna assured them, "Try again, Captain."

"This is Kathryn Janeway of the Federation ship Voyager." She shortened her message now as hope ebbed, "Is anyone receiving this communication?"

The static resumed, but this time was interspersed with distinct sounds, whistles and beeps. Then one word broke through, "…vessel…"

"Narrow the band a little more!" Harry instructed B'Elanna urgently, "Try again Captain."

"This is Janeway. Please repeat your last transmission."

"…cargo vessel…" The voice gargled through the static.

Chakotay grimaced, the pointlessness of this really starting to hit him when he saw Seven's eyes visibly widen. As he caught her gaze she immediately mouthed to him, 'Romulan'. He inhaled sharply, knowing better than to dismiss the input from whatever super-efficient Borg translator she had built into her implants, or whatever she could glean from the scans, but the Captain was too intent to notice his glance of warning.

"Cargo vessel, we're still trying to clear up your last transmission. Please repeat one more time."

The voice replied with deliberate care through the now clear line, "I am Captain of the cargo vessel Talvath. Location, Alpha Quadrant, Sector 1385. What is your location?"

The Captain took a hurried, shallow breath, knowing she shouldn't hesitate to answer. "We're in the Delta Quadrant, but since it hasn't been charted, I can't specify our exact location."

"Please confirm. You said _Delta _Quadrant?"

"Correct." Janeway confirmed, gulping slightly.

"In a Federation starship?" The disbelief in the disembodied voice was growing with every passing second.

"Yes." Janeway struggled to find a way to simply explain Voyager's predicament, "We were on a mission and we got pulled into this quadrant."

"Pulled in?" The voice, a man's, echoed incredulously, "How?"

"It's a complicated story." Janeway replied, almost dismissively, "_Please_, if you could just deconstruct the phase shift of our hailing frequency you could verify."

"You are undoubtedly still in the Alpha Quadrant." The man argued resolutely, "What are your coordinates?"

"I assure you, I am telling you the truth." The Captain replied wearily, "We are in the Delta Quadrant, 70,000 light years from you."

"This is preposterous!" The man snapped impatiently, "You are obviously lying, I am terminating communication."

"No…No, wait!" Janeway gasped out pleadingly, then sprinted towards Harry, "Hail them again!"

Harry did as she asked, but quickly sighed in defeat. "No response Captain."

"Why would he have broken off transmission entirely?" Tom questioned, exasperated.

"Because he is a Romulan." Seven answered succinctly.

"How…" The Captain began, but Tuvok stepped in.

"Seven is correct Captain. His comm. link signature indicates that the message originated from a Romulan ship. Further, there are no known shipping lanes in the sector he identified."

"On the contrary." Seven added, "Sector 1385 is within a highly restricted area of Romulan space, open only to Senate sanctioned science vessels, the military and the Tal Shiar."

"Given the precise calibration of his signal, I would suggest he is on board a science vessel." Tuvok opined.

"Aren't a bunch of scientists at least more likely to help us than the Romulan military or the Tal Shiar?" Tom asked with a wince that said he already knew the answer.

"Not necessarily." Chakotay responded grimly, "If he's engaged in some sort of secret research, he'd want to conceal that fact from a Federation ship, at the expense of helping us."

"Precisely, and when he claimed to be transmitting from the Delta Quadrant, an impossibility as far as he knows, he may have feared we were Federation spies." Tuvok explained further.

"Just our luck, we raise one ship from the Alpha Quadrant, and it has to be Romulan!" B'Elanna ground out bitterly.

"That Romulan still has the ability to get a message to Starfleet." Janeway reminded her pointedly, "Mr Kim, hail the Talvath repeatedly. Call me the minute you re-establish contact." She stalked agitatedly towards the turbolift, "Commander, you have the Bridge."

"Aye Captain." Chakotay agreed resignedly.

* * *

><p>Seven and Chakotay had retreated to the former's quarters, lying together in the darkness with Lucky's soft snoring drifting through from the other side of the bedroom door. Seven had noticed that Chakotay always seemed to abandon his own quarters, which they shared happily on most ordinary nights, for the 'cosier', or what her less romantic mind frankly called smaller, environment of her own when he was stressed. Said that on nights like this he could feel the ghosts of First Officers past watching him in the silence of his quarters. Either way, she knew it had become something of a running joke, among those who had decided on the nature of their relationship, that she and Chakotay practically shared a two bed apartment which just happened to have a corridor running down the middle.<p>

They'd made love, but had dressed again afterwards, half expecting to be summoned to the Bridge at will whether the Talvath's Captain responded to Janeway's bombardment of hails or not, and this instinctive readiness kept natural, sated sleep away. Chakotay was looking into her face, but his gaze was inward, deep in thought. His fingers drummed lightly against her thigh, and tiring of this treatment, Seven eventually pulled away, her impatient grunt finally giving her back a portion of his conscious attention. He shot her an appropriately sheepish look that became more abashed as she returned it with an expectant arch of her eyebrow. "What do you think the Romulan Captain will do?" he finally whispered, admitting his preoccupation just as she'd known he would.

"I cannot speculate." Seven murmured honestly, her tiny shrug making their shared pillow shift. "In my experience Romulans are almost as unpredictable as humans."

Chakotay felt his eyes widen a little as he realised she was being completely serious rather than joking, then sighed to himself in a way Seven took as tacit agreement. "What would we have done if the wormhole was big enough for us to go through?"

"That is irrelevant." Seven answered shortly, trying to stretch her rapidly tightening muscles. "It is not."

Chakotay lifted his head off the bed to glare at her in exasperation, too wound up for her reassuring attachment to reality to rouse its usual affection for her in him. "Seven…"

"Chakotay." Seven countered in the same tone before also sighing heavily, "I suspect the Captain would've taken Voyager through an appropriately sized wormhole without hesitation."

"Right into the heart of Romulan space?"

Seven frowned at his incredulous tone. "It _is _a great deal closer to Federation space."

"I know _that_..." Chakotay muttered mulishly, "But would we have been any better off? We would've all passed through a Romulan interrogation cell beforehand no doubt, and they would've held on to _you_…"

"That would be probable." Seven conceded dryly, gently kissing the hollow of his throat as he fearfully pulled her into him, his fingers digging into her hips a little too hard. "But for now we are not in Romulan space, we are here." She whispered soothingly.

Chakotay closed his eyes for a moment, making the shadows lurking underneath them particularly prominent as his heavy breathing ruffled her hair. "What about the next time?"

"Next time?" Seven echoed uncomprehendingly, "Chakotay, the odds of us finding another wormhole to the Alpha Quadrant are infinitesimal…"

"I know the odds, but with the number of spatial anomalies we've already run into in this damned quadrant…" He swallowed hard as his voice became a hiss, trying to calm himself, "We might end up in the Alpha Quadrant sooner rather than later. God Seven, I got us into this because I thought that, if we got back at all, we'd be in our nineties, and that our grandkids or even great-grandkids would be leading the charge back into Starfleet's arms; that the Maquis would be forgotten and they'd know more about the Borg than you could tell them…"

Seven stiffened, withdrawing from him, her arms encircling her implant riddled abdomen. "You _chose _to follow Janeway's judgment, to entrust her with our safety…" She reminded him, growing increasingly frustrated with his self-doubt.

"You made it pretty damn clear I didn't have much of a choice in that if we wanted to survive in any quadrant!" Chakotay shot back at her.

"After you'd destroyed the Valjean!" Seven snapped viciously, her hard to ignite temper, more powerful for it, brought to a hot flame by his attack. "I didn't force you to take my advice, and if you think it was so bad, what are we doing here?!" She threw the duvet off herself, the corner of it hitting him in the face, and started to scramble out of the bed.

Brought to his senses by the sudden chill of cold air, Chakotay reached out and grabbed her arm. "Wait…" He gasped out, then smiled awkwardly, "This is _your _bed remember?"

Seven glanced downwards. "Correct. You get out then." A sound between a laugh and a sob left her quaking chest as she met his eye and she swiftly sat back down on the bed, letting him tug her gently back into him until her back was flush against his chest, his arms around her waist.

Chakotay bowed his head over her shoulder, his face pressed into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry."

Seven reached back her hand and went under his vest, running her fingertips over his stomach and chest until he started to relax, his moan in response making a shiver run down her spine. "The blame for our situation lies wholly with the Caretaker."

Chakotay nodded slowly against her, "And the Kazon." He reminded her with a wry grimace.

"And the Kazon." She agreed good-naturedly with a solemn nod, "I apologise also." She flopped away from him back onto the bed, gazing up at him with unreadable eyes that made Chakotay hesitate to kiss her when he moved to be above her.

"What?" he queried pensively.

"If you are truly concerned about what Janeway will tell Starfleet about us through the possible conduit of the Romulans…" She began carefully, "Then I will…hack the transmission and delete any reference to the Maquis and my history with the Borg."

Chakotay sucked in a breath, he hadn't expected her to find a way to act to ease his fears, but knowing Seven as he did, he realised he shouldn't have been surprised. She was nothing if not resourceful. "No." He told her firmly, "That would be wrong. Honesty and trust is the basis of all that we're trying to build here, protect ourselves with. I won't jeopardise that because of a slim possibility."

"Perhaps then…" Seven suggested thoughtfully, "You should be more honest with the Captain about your fears."

"Probably." Chakotay conceded, "But, and I hate to tell you this, certain confidences are the prerogative of lovers…" He kissed her deeply, then broke it abruptly with a teasing grin as he left her panting, "…not Captain and First Officer."

"I am…thankful for that." Seven assured him breathlessly as his lips nipped a sensitive spot playfully.

"You're most likely right and it's irrelevant anyway." He remarked, "My first guess is probably right…" He swallowed, the unnatural shine in his eyes revealing real pain behind the off-hand remark, "…we'll probably get home in our dotage."

"With our great-grandchildren in command?" Seven said weakly, gulping down a lump in her throat that was rooted in a very different source of grief. Despite her new, active participation in…intimacy, she knew, and knew that Chakotay realised, that she was most likely utterly incapable of bearing living, let alone healthy, children. Not that anyone born on Voyager would be guaranteed a long life. She felt the blush of passion drain from her face but tried to deflect from her unease, "What makes you think rank should be inherited?"

"Thinking ahead to founding a U.S.S. Voyager campus of the Academy are you?" Chakotay teased lightly, even as he tenderly caressed her face, smoothing out her frown with his thumb, "Don't worry." He murmured knowingly, then winked at her as he tried to smile, "I've still got those fabled wild oats to sow after all."

"Oh?" Seven asked, eyebrows as high as the knee she abruptly pulled up to make him up jump. "Aren't I 'wild' enough for you? I certainly never intend to be in my dotage at any age!"

* * *

><p><strong>An: PLEASE REVIEW! :D **

**Fic Recommendations:**

'**Erring on the Side of Caution' by NikkiB1973: A lovely, cute little one-shot answering the question 'What if Chakotay had handled the last scene in 'Human Error' differently?' **

'**Sleepwalking' by The Cheshire Cheese: I've mentioned this one before, but it was updated with three new chapters this week! In the 'Before and After' timeline, the decision to become involved in the struggles of Unimatrix Zero will change the lives of both Captain Chakotay and Tom Paris…**

'**The River of Time' by cojack: Chakotay wakes up in an alien construct surrounded by six equally disorientated AU versions of himself. As they wake, they discuss how their universes differ, and what they share… One-shot.**

'**Alternatives' by cojack: One-shot sequel to 'The River of Time'. Explores how each of the six AU Chakotays react to their 'dream' after being returned to their own universes by the mysterious aliens calling themselves the Stewards of the Multiverse… **

**Each AU explored in 'The River of Time' and 'Alternatives' was developed into a separate amazing story by cojack, all now complete except for the latest, updated this week, 'The Folly of the Stewards'. **

**Check all these stories out for great reading! :)**


	83. Time's Needle

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

* * *

><p>In the end, both of Seven's predictions at least, came true. All of the senior officers were roused from sleep, relieved from their restlessness or otherwise interrupted by the Captain's intense command, her nervous excitement and trepidation hardly suppressed, to return to the Bridge. That this Romulan contact of theirs was quick on the uptake was also proven; he'd been speculating on a method to create a visual link between Voyager and the Talvath even as he mulled over his suspicions. Most of the officers were grateful for the Captain's apparent persuasive powers as they plunged into doing everything they could to prepare for the link at their end, and even Chakotay, with all his apprehension off his chest, could heartily agree with Seven's quiet statement that this connection to the Alpha Quadrant, however tenuous and short-lived could only be good for their new 'Collective's' morale as the situation stood.<p>

So as Janeway left her Ready Room, no longer caught vulnerable and unawares by the contact as she had been in her quarters, conducting a delicate negotiation, or plea, in her nightgown, but instead the epitome of sleek Starfleet professionalism, every eye she met gleamed with the taut readiness and restrained hope she felt. "We're ready to attempt the visual link with the Romulan ship Captain." Tuvok reported, his voice forceful but otherwise impassive.

"We didn't have any trouble configuring the protocols." Harry explained before his confident tone wobbled for an instant as he revealed a caveat, "But that phase variance in the radiation stream gave us a few problems."

The Captain looked between him and Seven, who'd found a sweet spot on the Bridge where she had easy access to every console but was just outside the span of the viewscreen. Hiding her Borg identity was ingrained, Starfleet uniform or not. "Have you discovered the cause of this phase variance?" Janeway asked cautiously.

"Not as yet Captain." Seven replied, sounding a little annoyed at herself, an impression that was compounded by her tiny sigh, "There are still an infinite number of unknown variables where wormholes are concerned, and our scans are barely…scratching the surface. I will continue to investigate the phenomenon while Lieutenant Torres manually balances the variance from Engineering during the link with the Romulan ship."

Janeway allowed herself a relieved twitch of her lips as she gave the two of them a certain nod, just turning back round to the viewscreen when Tom looked over his shoulder from the helm, "Okay, we've got the communications frequency locked in." Tom's demeanour was as smoothly upbeat as ever, but Janeway couldn't help noticing Chakotay by the pilot's side, reading the same data as Tom with a pensive expression on his swarthy features. For now, she'd just put it down to handling anticipation differently.

"On screen." Janeway ordered, swallowing slightly as the image on the viewscreen was stretched and blurred by interference. Just as she'd remembered to still the hands she was unconsciously wringing to psych herself up, an unmistakably Romulan face appeared with sudden clarity.

She watched the man take a breath as he took in his, presumably equally clear, image of her and Voyager's Bridge, his head drawing back slightly in surprise. He couldn't maintain the stereotypical haughty expression of Romulans for long with such a shock, though Janeway doubted upon hearing his voice that that was a natural part of his personality, despite the sharp, hawk like features he shared with all of his kind, exacerbated by the strict haircut and the uniform that emphasised the broadness of his shoulders and swallowed his neck. "I presume you are Captain Janeway?"

"Yes." Janeway confirmed as she glided forward, one hand still clutching the other in front of her to contain her trembling. "I want to thank you for maintaining contact with us, it means a great deal to me and to my crew."

The Romulan's eyes shifted uncomfortably, and Janeway recalled that compassion was not a trait encouraged in its functionaries by the Romulan state. He tried to hide the slip by forcing his eyes to hurriedly scan what he could see of Voyager's Bridge. "I am not familiar with this class of ship." He commented tightly.

"It's new, but it isn't classified." Janeway assured him in a friendly, conciliatory tone, but couldn't resist her flare of curiosity. She had to learn all she could about this man. Even if he wasn't the traditional caricature of a Romulan pugilist, that didn't mean she could make assumptions. "I'm a little surprised your intelligence hasn't provided you with the information."

The Romulan's eyes narrowed defensively, "I've been in space for over a year Captain, and am not privy to the latest intelligence. I'm sure our operatives have provided the government with detailed information about your new ship."

"No doubt." Janeway agreed, "Captain, have you been able to communicate with your government about sending our messages?"

"I have." The Romulan blinked too rapidly, almost guiltily, "They've promised to take the matter under advisement."

"I see." Janeway answered in the same careful tone, "And when do you think they'll have an answer?" she probed.

"It is impossible to predict the timetable of the Romulan senate." Her Romulan counterpart replied stiffly, "When they've made their decision, I will hear from them." Listening to him, Chakotay began to suspect this man didn't appreciate his government's bureaucracy himself, but was straining to hide it.

"We don't have the luxury of a great deal of time." Janeway explained, starting her habitual pacing route back and forth behind the helm. "My officers are predicting that the probe will become inoperable in the next 48 hours."

"Captain…" The Romulan broke in, awareness of his own powerlessness shining out of his eyes and sharping his tone, "I am a low-ranking scientist, a minor functionary. It is not my place to tell the Romulan senate to speed up their decision making process."

Janeway decided to change tact, "You said you'd been in space for over a year…" She moved much closer to the viewscreen so that she was gazing up at him, "Do you have any family?" Seven felt herself squirm, both detachedly admiring and personally recoiling from Janeway's skilful emotional manipulation. Tuvok also gave the tiniest of starts, though whether in disapprobation or approval Seven couldn't be sure.

The Romulan eyed her warily. "Yes." He confirmed shortly.

"I assume they're not with you in space?" Janeway pressed.

"My wife and my daughter are on Romulus."

Janeway heard the pained hesitation before he mentioned his daughter and latched on to it. "A daughter." She said warmly, "How old is she?"

"She is…" The Romulan glanced down, the convulsion in his throat just visible above the collar of his uniform, "…seven months."

The Captain's brows furrowed in empathic sympathy, but her tone was also too eager to Chakotay's ears, too pursuing. "Then you've never seen her?"

"To my sorrow, no." The Romulan answered, his voice quiet. "She'll be two years old by the time I get back."

"You must miss your family very much."

The Romulan blinked a few times, but then the spell Janeway had cast seemed to break and he straightened in his chair, "I knew when I accepted this assignment that there would be a price to pay." He replied, but his resolve dipped again as he admitted, "Perhaps I didn't realise how high that price would be."

"Captain…" Janeway drove home her point now, "…everyone of us on this ship has left behind friends, family, loved ones. We may not see them again for years. Maybe never." As she paused, the mood on the Bridge became especially downcast at the reminder, "So we can all understand how lonely you must feel. Surely you can understand our feelings as well." She watched his face as his mistrustful stoicism again slipped, "We would be deeply grateful for any efforts you might make to persuade your government to send our messages."

The Romulan lifted his head, "I cannot guarantee success." He warned softly, "But I will try to persuade my superiors to make their decision quickly." He hesitated as he met her gaze, "And positively."

"Thank you." Janeway murmured earnestly.

"I will contact you again." The Romulan advised her formally before turning away to cut off the link.

Janeway smiled hopefully as the screen went blank and turned to Chakotay. "Commander, let's assume he's going to be successful. Tell the crew to prepare personal messages and have them ready within the hour."

Chakotay studied her for a moment, before deciding he was willing to accept her tactics as both necessary and effective. "With pleasure, Captain."

Suddenly, B'Elanna barrelled into the Bridge, squeezing through the turbolift's doors halfway through their sedate slide open. A flyaway curl had been freed from the restraint of her smoothed hairstyle in the rush, and her face was flushed. "Captain, I need to talk to you!"

"Go ahead Torres." The Captain permitted warmly.

B'Elanna shook her head impatiently, "No. I mean, in private."

Janeway was surprised, but obligingly started to wave B'Elanna towards her Ready Room. However, Seven stepped swiftly forward. "If I may intrude?"

B'Elanna nodded distractedly, "Yes Seven, you should. I was going to ask you first, if you thought it was…" She trailed off and headed for the Ready Room. "Never mind. Come on." She hardly waited before the doors had shut behind the other two women before launching into an explanation, "I think this will work Captain, but I didn't want to bring it up in front of the crew. It wouldn't be right to get their hopes up, although I think it _will _work…"

"Slow down Torres, and tell me what you're talking about." Janeway cut in, though not unkindly.

"The phase amplitude of the visual link with the Romulan ship." B'Elanna began to clarify, even as her voice became even more intense, "It's within just a few megahertz of meeting transporter protocols!"

"Are you suggesting…" The Captain started, her voice failing her.

"We might be able to piggyback a transporter beam onto the visual link, and transport the entire crew back to the Alpha Quadrant."

"We would have to reconfigure the matter transmission rate substantially." Seven remarked coolly, "And we risk losing whatever we try to beam out, especially since this wormhole has an unpredictable variance in its phase amplitude. The transporter might not be able to compensate."

"We'd have to make the transporter more sensitive to variance than usual, yes." B'Elanna agreed, "But it's been done before, to allow the transporter to penetrate certain planetary atmospheres." She waited for Seven's nod, which thankfully came, "We'd have to run a series of tests first."

"See to it Lieutenant." The Captain told her, excitement quickening her voice, "And Seven, you're going to have to investigate this phase variance as much as possible."

"Yes Captain." Both ex-Maquis women agreed in unison.

"I'll need some help." B'Elanna advised her.

"You have my authorisation to use any personnel you need, this is top priority." She paused briefly for breath as she finally began to smile widely, "And don't worry about secrecy. I doubt you'll be able to keep this quiet for very long."

Seven waited until B'Elanna had departed in a whirl of energy before mentioning the obvious. "We will still need the Romulan's permission to beam 146 people aboard his ship."

Janeway halted, her eyes intent on the photograph of Mark on her desk. "I know."

* * *

><p>"…and our Chief Engineer has managed to bind a transporter beam to the visual link between us." Janeway explained to the straight-backed Romulan again in front of her on the viewscreen.<p>

"Then you've matched your data transmission to the phase amplitude of our comm. signal?" The question was awestruck, though of course he had the theory dead on, Janeway knew he'd been underselling himself as a 'low-ranking' scientist. Even if that were true, he was a gifted one.

"Exactly." Janeway confirmed, pleased.

The Romulan exhaled slowly, "Apparently our intelligence operatives are _not _doing their job. You clearly have technology we are unaware of. This would be an incredible breakthrough in subspace mechanics." Seven frowned slightly to herself, not because he was wrong to be intrigued, it _would _be a breakthrough, but because Romulan technology in certain fields including transporters and particularly obvious when their ability to cloak their ships was included, was much more advanced than Federation technology. Certainly, this man, the leader of a covert science mission, should know that too?

"We'd like to try transmitting a test cylinder to you." Chakotay told the Romulan, interrupting Seven's thoughts.

"A test cylinder of what sort?" The Romulan questioned, wary once again.

"It is a standard Starfleet mechanism with a varietal molecular matrix. It stimulates most known organic and non-organic compounds. It is not classified technology." Tuvok answered.

"Ah, I am aware of this mechanism, we use a similar device." The Romulan said, relaxing, though again Seven wondered about his reaction, she almost thought he was bluffing. "I will allow the transport."

"Bridge to Transporter Room 1." The Captain hailed.

"Torres here, we're all set Captain. We're locked and active, and focusing on the Romulan's transporter coordinates."

"Alright then." The Captain replied, "Let's give it a try."

"Energise." Chakotay commanded as the final, more formal order.

"The cylinder has dematerialised Captain." B'Elanna reported through the comm., but those on the Bridge could already see it rematerializing on the other side. On the console in front of the Romulan, the bluish blur of the transporter began to appear, its buzz filling the comm. line. However, the cylinder was only solid for an instant before it began to deteriorate again.

"Can you get it back?" The Captain asked anxiously.

"The pattern buffer is having trouble accepting the matter stream." B'Elanna explained with remarkable calm, as if she transported through wormholes every day. "I'll increase power to the phase transition coils."

A tense moment passed as the transporter beam fought its way through the wormhole, but then the cylinder appeared in front of the Romulan, as intact as it would've been if it had been beamed from the next room.

The Romulan was actually smiling in disbelief as he took the cylinder firmly in his hands. "Congratulations Captain, you've done it." He stared at the cylinder again, "Very impressive."

"Thank you." Janeway replied graciously, "But we should run a series of these tests, just to make sure, but we have to act quickly before the probe is crushed."

"I understand." The Romulan assured her.

"Eventually we'll have to try transporting a person. One of our crew will beam to your ship if you'll allow it."

The Romulan's face fell. "I'm afraid I can't permit that Captain. My government would never allow Starfleet personnel on this ship. I wouldn't want my logs to show that activity."

"Then what would you suggest?" Tuvok asked pointedly.

"I'll volunteer to transport to your ship, and back again."

"But Captain…if we can't transport to your ship, how are we to get back?" Janeway questioned.

The Romulan paused for thought before answering, "If the procedure is successful, I will arrange for a troop ship to join me. That would easily accommodate your crew."

"Very well." Janeway agreed, "We'll be in touch."

* * *

><p>"Kim and Torres have made more than 20 transports with the test cylinder." Chakotay informed the Captain as the two of them and Tuvok made their way to Transporter Room 1. "Even though she's still having trouble with that phase variance, every one of them has been successful."<p>

"Let's hope it goes as well with the Romulan." Janeway replied tightly.

"Captain, I must insist I stay with him at all times while he's on board…" Tuvok began, only to be interrupted by Seven of Nine striding hurriedly towards them, tricorder in hand.

"Captain, I should be in the Transporter Room when the Romulan arrives." She stated unequivocally without preamble.

"Seven…" The Captain began, touching her arm lightly, "I know you want to help with this phase variance, but we're in good hands with B'Elanna. I don't think it's a good idea for the Romulan to meet you, we haven't explained your…heritage."

In other circumstances, Seven might've retorted that her heritage was Scandinavian, Swedish with a Finnish or Norwegian ancestor or two thrown in in recent generations, if she was going to comment on her Borg past it may as well on be oblique, but she had bigger issues to focus on. "I trust Lieutenant Torres judgement, but you may well require my input as well." She glanced between her and Chakotay as her voice dropped, "I suspect my visible past as a Borg drone will prove irrelevant."

"Seven, I know this Romulan seems like a reasonable man, but it's not safe for you to…" Chakotay started to intervene.

Seven turned her attention fully onto the Captain. "I should be there."

Her gaze was so unwavering and certain that Janeway suspected the younger woman knew something she didn't, and that meant she'd need her in that Transporter Room. "Okay, come with us."

"We're locked onto him." B'Elanna advised them as they all entered, "Whenever you're ready Captain."

"Well, let's try it." The Captain remarked with trepidation audible in her voice as she stood in front of the transporter pad. "Energise." A vague outline of the Romulan's tall frame began to appear in front of her, but just as quickly, like the first cylinder, began to fade. "What's the problem?" Janeway demanded anxiously.

"It's the phase variance." B'Elanna answered, "I'm balancing it manually."

The beam balanced quickly and with a few seconds they had a respectable but wide-eyed Romulan on the transporter pad, fully materialised. Janeway tried to make her smile welcoming and reassuring. "Welcome to the Delta Quadrant…Captain."

"My congratulations on your remarkable achievement." The Romulan told her as he looked around the room, "This is an astonishing breakthrough."

As he stepped towards her, she started to introduce the others, "My First Officer, Commander Chakotay. Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, head of Security. Chief Engineer Torres, Operations Officer Kim, Science Officer..." Janeway hesitated over her designation and Seven decided it was time to step in. The Romulan's expression as he looked at her, identical to the one of surprised curiosity he'd had at the sight of a Klingon hybrid in a Starfleet uniform, had confirmed her theory.

"Captain, before we proceed, I must explain the phase variance." She interrupted regretfully.

"Well, it almost stopped us from pulling you through…" B'Elanna explained to the Romulan, "But we managed it by manually balancing…"

"The phase variance is actually a temporal variance." Seven said bluntly, "These tricorder readings confirm it, our guest is out of sync with space time."

Tuvok, who had also pulled out a tricorder, addressed the Romulan, "Captain, what year is it?"

The Romulan eyed both Tuvok and Seven in confused uneasiness. "By your calendar, the year is 2351."

"But…this is 2371." Chakotay murmured, looking at the faces around him and seeing that even Seven had paled, despite undoubtedly having some inkling. Maybe she hadn't expected it to be a full twenty years, but she'd been certain enough that it was far enough back for the Romulans to have no knowledge of the Borg.

"Exactly." Tuvok said, speaking now that Seven seemed to have gone dumb. "Our Romulan visitor is a person out of time. He's showing clear evidence of temporal displacement. I would surmise that the wormhole is a rift not just in space, but in time. We have transported him from twenty years in the past to our present."

The Captain fought to recover herself, trying to put on a brave face for the Romulan who was equally if not more so, justifiably, thunderstruck. "Captain…" She began weakly, "It appears we now have other factors to consider in how you can help us. Please allow Mr Tuvok to escort you to our Briefing Room while I…inform the rest of my crew." She could barely get the words out and it took all of her composure to stop herself fleeing the room. As it was, she walked shakily out into the hall, tapping her comm. badge despite her mind drawing a blank as to an appropriate motivational speech.

"If you'll come with me Captain." Tuvok offered the dazed Romulan impassively. At that moment everyone in the room was jealous of his ability to suppress emotion entirely.

"Wait…please." Seven abruptly asked the Romulan, causing him to turn to her with uneasily inquisitive eyes. "Please tell me the _exact _date of your present."

"You are human." The Romulan stated, then shifted in embarrassment, "Forgive me, but…"

Seven waved him off. "I am human, but was…captured and mutilated as a young child. My parents were exploratory scientists and they became…overconfident." She met his sympathetic gaze, "I believe your decision to ensure your family's safety on Romulus was a wise and unselfish one Captain."

The Romulan was obviously caught off guard by that. "Thank you for saying so." He murmured with difficulty before regaining his own composure somewhat. "Why does the exact date matter? The temporal difference makes what you and your crew are asking for impossible."

"I'd like to know the exact temporal variance of this wormhole for our records." Seven replied quickly.

"Yes…it is certainly a unique phenomenon in my experience." The Romulan admitted, shivering slightly. "The date is the fifteenth day of the month of Kalim…Stardate 29153.2."

Seven just stared at him for a moment, then came back to herself. "Thank you Captain…you may leave with Commander Tuvok now."

"Seven?" B'Elanna, her face white but grim and accepting, peered at Seven's face. "I'll need your help sorting out how this phase variance works, if we can counteract it…"

"It is highly improbable that we can." Seven answered distractedly, not looking at B'Elanna nor Chakotay, who was quietly consoling Harry. "The time differential is a structural component of the wormhole." She had already turned towards the door, missing B'Elanna's flinch in response to her distant, unfeeling tone. "Excuse me."

* * *

><p>By the time she'd made it to her quarters, Seven was breathing hard, breaking out in a cold sweat and more than a little dizzy. Lucky barked once in welcome, but she thoughtlessly pushed him aside as she stumbled over to her unmade bed and sat on the end of it, her erratic heartbeat pounding in her ears as she heard the Collective's voice.<p>

_Stardate 40840.211, Cube 461 of 500 Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. One unidentified vessel identified in the wake of the Cube's warp drive. Vessel disabled by Class 2 ion storm, crashed on Moon 3 of Planet 1579871. Its technological distinctiveness was added to our own. Three members of new species assimilated, one immature. Species is designated as 5618. Alpha Quadrant species. Further investigation into this species recommended._

Seven pressed her hands around her ears to keep the memory out. That was irrelevant. That had been in the early part of 2356, a full five years after the Romulan's time. But wasn't that the point? The date he had given had been in the early part of 2351, she'd been just two and a half years old, her parents hadn't left on the Raven yet…she was certain of it. She glanced dazedly over at the desk, where Chakotay had recorded his short message to Sekaya. She hadn't bothered composing a message, just added a couple of sentences for Sekaya, there had seemed little point in wasting transmission time on two messages to one person, and she had no one else to write to.

In 2351 she'd had family. If she could get a message to them, tell them, beg them not to go on their doomed expedition, she'd… Her human hand was shaking uncontrollably, and she automatically grabbed it with her cybernetic hand to make it still, but a soft cry left her throat as she stared wide-eyed at that ravaged limb, then at the unmade bed where she'd made love to Chakotay only hours before. What was she thinking? But how could she ignore that it was possible? Temporal interference was possible, the very fact that humans had warp drive was testament to that. She stood up abruptly, lost in a heady mix of renewed grief, fear, and absolute euphoria. She fell to her knees before reaching the bathroom and vomited all over the floor.

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><p><strong>An: Please review. :) Thank you to cojack for completing 'Folly of the Stewards' and thus completing all of the C/7 AU spin-offs of 'Alternatives'. Check them all out, every single story is an amazing read! :)**


	84. The Thread of Fate

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.  
><strong>

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><p>"I've gone over and over the transporter logs." B'Elanna said resignedly, staring over her crossed arms down at some indistinct point on the Briefing Room table. "There's no question that if we try to transport ourselves through that wormhole, we'll end up twenty years in the past."<p>

"Then let's do it!" Harry exclaimed frantically, then added in a defensive tone, thick with emotion, "It's better than spending the next seventy years trying to get back!"

"How can we do that?" Tom demanded with dry bluntness, then leaned forward in his chair to regard Harry more empathically, "We'd be going back to a time when you were only two years old."

"I know you're disappointed Harry." The Captain told her young Ops officer gently, brushing her clammy hand against his shoulder before drawing it back towards her chest as it began to shake. "We all are. It seemed so close." She pulled herself up after that admission, trying to make her features reflect proud resilience rather than defeated resignation, "But clearly we can't go back. It would pollute the timeline to such an extent that the consequences would be unimaginable." She walked in a controlled, strained stride around the edge of the table until she stood directly in front of the seated Romulan. "I'm afraid we'll have to send you back alone, and ask that you not reveal anything that has happened here."

The Romulan met her gaze seriously and unflinchingly. "I can assure you Captain that I would not do anything that might contaminate the future and perhaps harm the Romulan Empire. But…" The mask of patriotic zeal fell away from his face as he hesitated, "…in twenty years, I could alert Starfleet not to launch the mission which sent you here."

"I'm afraid that's not possible either." Chakotay replied slowly, "We've already had a huge impact on this quadrant. People and events here would be drastically effected." He saw Harry wince in denial, and his own discontent stirred, hating the fact that he'd merely parroted an Academy ethics lecture, the conclusions of which were hardly less superficial than they were comforting. What had they done here really? Narrowly avoided the clutches of a couple of spatial anomalies, 'saved' the Ocampa. Who could know for sure that if Voyager hadn't gotten involved, delayed the Caretaker, that the alien wouldn't have just self-destructed the array at a more opportune time and taken the invading Kazon ships with him? Or he could've been truly honest and informed the Romulan that his informing Starfleet to stop Voyager's mission wouldn't have helped the Valjean much, his crew's chances were better as it was. He did, almost wholeheartedly, agree with Janeway's assertion however that they couldn't go back. Even if the thought of existing in a past where a five year old version of himself already existed didn't conflict horribly with his belief in the natural order of things, he knew the Romulans, much as he was coming to accept the integrity of this particular man, would never let anyone with twenty years of technological intelligence go. If a miracle occurred and they did, he couldn't go back to Dorvan V or Earth, but go and hide out somewhere where he wouldn't be tortured by the intricacies of fate. He didn't miss the irony that Seven had just wanted to go and retire to some peaceful place even while they'd still been in the Maquis, but that didn't mean they'd be happier if they changed the timeline to make that possible.

He looked across at her, seeking a calm, unaffected face, she'd never expected much from this, but what he saw shocked him. Seven's face was pallid, her body brittle and unmoving, and her eyes fixed straight ahead, fixated and grim. She looked ready to scream. He started to rise in his chair to go to her, to ask what the hell was going on, but Janeway speaking again pinned him to the seat. "I'm afraid we're left with our original request." She said tightly before her voice was softened by the bitter reminder that this was all she'd originally thought to hope for. "In twenty years, would you relay our personal messages to Starfleet?"

"Of course." The Romulan agreed readily, gazing at the Captain sympathetically, "At the proper time, I will transmit them."

Seven's hands clenched around the comm. chip she held in her fist, her grip so tight that the metal tore under her nails. This Romulan was a reasonable, a good, man. She could convince him to transmit her message earlier, he'd shown sympathy for her before, and if he showed it to his superiors or told anyone her story, she could protect the Empire from the Collective. Preventing the assimilation of Romulans, or anyone, would be just as righteous as saving humans, as saving her parents and herself. It couldn't be otherwise. The Hansens would heed her letter, they'd _have _to, and then… She'd have a full life as an individual, the Borg wouldn't learn of Humans and the Federation, their plans for the Alpha Quadrant wouldn't be formulated until Q intervened almost two decades later. Everything would be improved, closer to perfection. That thought chilled her, she was echoing the Borg Queen. Hadn't the Collective taken the chance to interfere in Zephron Cochrane's life, and in doing so set him on the very path they'd sought to prevent? The Collective had access to technology and information that had allowed them to calculate infinite scenarios of the timeline that would stem from their interference, and still they'd been surprised. Who was she, a single individual, to think she had anymore clarity? What if the Romulans decided they needed to launch an offensive against this threat she told them of? She could be responsible for plunging the Alpha Quadrant into war as easily as protecting it. What if her letter only convinced her parents that their theories were right and they searched for the Borg even more recklessly? If she were assimilated _earlier_, the Kotays would've never freed her, she'd live out her entire life as a drone. She'd never meet Chakotay, never love him… The comm. chip fell abruptly from her grasp to thud against the carpet, the sound made her ears ring. The pounding of her head intensified, her eyes burning into near blindness, as she finally caught Chakotay's gaze studying her. She was filled with the irrational fear that he could see what she'd been thinking and became frozen to the spot, not even bending to find the chip that had her fate weighing on it.

All this hung over her head while the Romulan continued to speak, "If you should find a way back within my lifetime…I'd be an old man, but I'd welcome a message from you. I am Telek R'Mor of the Romulan Astrophysical Academy."

"I promise you'll hear from us." Janeway answered resolutely as she moved round so that she was standing behind her still seated officers, all poster children for determination and solidarity. "Because we _will _get back."

* * *

><p>"These are our messages." As Tuvok said those words and smoothly pressed the comm. chip that held the condensed, innocent, messages of everyone else on the crew into R'Mor's outstretched hand, Seven could only watch numbly. This was her last chance, her <em>only <em>chance, and she was letting it slip through her fingers as her own life-defining message bit into the flesh of her palm.

"I wish you luck on your journey." R'Mor addressed Janeway now, sincerely. If she could just find a way to pull him aside… No, she'd let opportunities to do that, before they'd entered the Briefing Room, while they'd waited for said room to fill up, and she'd avoided them all, had stood rooted to the spot, fear and reason conspiring against possibility.

"And I thank you for your help." Janeway replied warmly. It wasn't only Seven's eyes that followed the Romulan intently as he stepped up to the transporter pad, nor was she the only one who had to fight back bitter tears of disappointment, though none were quite so painful as hers. The Captain's own voice caught slightly as she gave the final order, "Energise."

The transporter kicked in and Telek R'Mor, with the opportunities and wishes he'd held for them, disappeared in the same blue-white shimmer in which he'd appeared. "His signal is in the pattern buffer." B'Elanna reported in a low tone, "Transferring to the emitter array."

"Phase variance is out of sync again." Harry informed her in a deadened voice.

"Compensating." B'Elanna assured him tersely, her taut shoulders relaxing a moment later as her actions worked, though she still had to lean heavily on the console as she gave her final status report. "Transport complete, Captain. He made it." She glanced at Harry briefly, his apathetic stance stabbing at her. If she'd never thought of the transporter idea then the crew would've never had their hopes so inflated only for the bubble to burst so cruelly in their faces…

Janeway could be heard inhaling a deep breath before gracefully spinning round to face them all. "I'll tell the crew." She forced a brave smile, "They can have the satisfaction of knowing their messages have reached their families."

"Captain." Tuvok called her back as she started to leave, "I did not want to mention this until after our guest had left. I checked the Computer's databanks for a Romulan scientist named Telek R'Mor…"

Janeway stared at him, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she recognised real regret in Tuvok's steady features, "And?"

"I'm sorry to report that Dr R'Mor died in 2367."

"That was four years ago." The Captain breathed, her voice almost inaudible.

"That is correct." Tuvok answered, obligated to say what his Captain knew, but did not want to hear, as always. "Before he would have sent our messages."

Harry's stoic exterior crumbled, he began to gulp convulsively, lowering his head to rest on his arms on the console. B'Elanna put a hand on his shoulder before her Klingon nature told her to fight defeat. "Maybe he left a will, telling someone else to transmit the messages, or he could've given our chip to the Romulan government."

"It is possible." Tuvok agreed in a measured tone, "Unfortunately there is no way to know."

Those in the transporter room became wrapped in a shroud of insular silence, lost in thought, but Chakotay held onto enough of reality in that moment to shuffle to Seven's side. It was as if she'd been deaf to the latest revelations, standing amongst them as if still a drone, listening to other voices and declaring theirs irrelevant. "You knew, just like Tuvok didn't you?" he murmured in her ear, taking her hand tight in his. It was ice cold and unresponsive. "I could tell, in the Briefing Room, that you wanted to say something…"

"But I did not." Seven replied in a monotone whisper, "I made my decision." She shuddered and wrenched her hand free from his before letting it hang limp at her side.

Chakotay started to open his mouth to reply, to stubbornly reach for her, but Janeway's strident, grimly determined voice cut in. "Then let's move on. We've got a long way to go." Her blue eyes blazed a little too brightly, but dimmed again as she met Chakotay's gaze, "Commander, I'll need your help to inform the rest of the crew. I think we'd better inform them all personally…if it's really not certain."

"I agree Captain." Chakotay agreed quietly, looking around for Seven before he fell into step with the Captain, but she had already gone, not waiting for Janeway's motivational statement.

* * *

><p>Chakotay walked wearily down the corridor, skipping his own quarters in favour of Seven's. He sighed heavily as he dialled in the key code, rolling his painfully tense shoulders back and forth. Draining. That was the only way he could describe the past twenty four hours, and the burden he'd just helped the Captain bear had sapped the last of any emotional energy he had left. Janeway's decision to inform the wider crew of the ambiguity of what could've happened to their messages had been one he wholeheartedly agreed with, perhaps the first time he could say that even if he had always tried to respect the hierarchy he'd helped to establish, but that didn't mean doing it had been easy. They hadn't quite spoken to everyone individually, but in small groups of four or five. He'd made sure that everyone was with their closest friends, that everyone had someone else to lean on, commiserate, speculate or grieve with. The various reactions he'd witnessed could basically be split into three categories; those, like B'Elanna, who'd chosen to stubbornly cling to the fact that Dr R'Mor had had their messages, he could've easily had a contingency plan in place to transmit them in case of his early death; others who defensively claimed they'd never had much hope anyway, and whether the messages had been delivered or not didn't change anything, that hot resentment had been difficult to deal with. Then there was the vast majority who'd been left stunned, not even able to summon up enough of a reaction to question, but the numbness had soon faded and they'd retreated from their commanding officers with glistening eyes. Chakotay sensed that Janeway had found this majority the hardest to handle, because her emotions fell in line with theirs, he wouldn't be surprised if she fell back to her Ready Room tomorrow and left him on the Bridge. As for himself, he feared that his own feelings were in the blurred area near the second group pretending to be hardened, indifferent. He'd be bitter and resentful soon too if he didn't stop thinking about the possibilities.<p>

No, he'd have a long sonic shower then have a quiet night with Seven on the couch. Maybe she'd let Lucky up with them like she sometimes did for his warm, friendly bulk. They wouldn't talk about wormholes or dead Romulans…they'd find something else to talk about or just stay silent. Seven wasn't one to judge that, thank God…

These fuzzy, comforting thoughts abandoned him as he fully entered the quarters and was struck by the overpowering, nasal burning scent of cleansing fluid. His eyes widened as he saw Seven kneeling on the floor, viciously scrubbing at a faint but broad stain on the carpet halfway between the bed and the bathroom. She utterly ignored his arrival. Lucky, lying suspiciously far away from his mistress, lifted his head up from his massive paws to look at him balefully. "What happened?" Chakotay questioned cautiously, giving a start as he finally caught the faint underlying smell of sickness. "You're ill, have you seen the Doctor?" he demanded, "If one of your implants has been irritating your stomach again…" He peered at her, she looked as if she was in agony, her face white and damp, her eyes glazed over. More than he'd ever seen when her implants niggled her.

"I am not ill." Seven replied, the words staggered as if she were struggling to catch her breath. "I was agitated…distressed." Her eyes squinted down at the spot she was scrubbing and her arms picked up speed.

"Seven, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet…" Chakotay started awkwardly, wrong footed by her demeanour as much as her reply, "You were upset when you found out about R'Mor dying?" The guess was blind and he fell it was off at once, Seven's reaction to that would never have been extreme.

Seven pressed her lips together. "I was thinking about the assimilation process." She replied shortly.

Chakotay was thrown and horrified, "_Why_?"

"It is not something I can always avoid recalling." Seven retorted tersely, "I _did _both experience and…witness it." She jerked her gaze up to his, eyes dark and glowering. "I'm sure you can appreciate that it was traumatic."

"Of course, but…" Chakotay started empathically before looking down at her in disbelief, "Seven, what's this about?"

Seven continued on as if she hadn't heard him, "I was not always like this!" she spat out, gesticulating wildly at the implants on her face, "I was born human, I had a name… In 2351 I was a human toddler, just as you and B'Elanna and…Captain Janeway once were also, just the same…"

"2351?" Chakotay echoed, slowly putting the pieces together, his heart sinking. "In the year Dr R'Mor came from…you hadn't been assimilated?" He sifted through his memory for what little detail of Seven's past she'd explicitly confided, or his father had discovered. "Your parents hadn't left home yet." He realised, a shiver running down his spine. He took a step backward, brushing against the desk, and spotted the single comm. chip discarded atop it. He gingerly picked it up, the chain it hung from running through his fingers. With the comm. chip there was also a tiny vial, one he knew without asking would contain the hard evidence that was Seven's blood, rich in the requisite nanoprobes.

"Do not listen to it…please." Seven choked out, before her head bowed once more and her voice sharpened, "It is humiliating enough to stoop to begging my own parents to save my life and theirs when you already know they will most likely ignore it…"

Chakotay wordlessly slipped the chain into the desk drawer and pushed the drawer shut, then reached Seven and dropped to his knees beside her. "It's not humiliating, it's…natural. Don't you think it occurred to me too, to try to change things?" His voice roughened with grief, "To warn my mother about her aneurysm, to tell Dad to leave Dorvan before…" He trailed off painfully, "And you, you have so much more to regret…" He reached out to put his arms around her, but she flinched back violently, blood blooming from her bitten lip as huge tears rolled despondently down her sunken cheeks.

"I am a coward." She declared bitterly, sobs clogging her throat.

Chakotay gave her a strained smile even as his own vision blurred in empathy. "Seven, sweetheart, if _you_ are a coward, then the rest of us may as well be snivelling worms." He swallowed as he helplessly watched her cry. "Let me hold you…" He pleaded in a whisper.

Seven's body had started to sway, but she still held herself apart from him. "I was too afraid…frightened that I wouldn't know you…" Her voice cracked, a strangled, unnatural laugh leaving her, "What if they…the Hansens, just found another way to end my life? Or the Romulans futilely attacked the Borg and I was responsible…"

"We'll never know what might've happened. That's why we both know it's impossible to change things, whatever we might wish." Chakotay told her thickly.

"I know." Seven whispered brokenly, "But I should have taken the risk…" She heaved in a breath but that only fuelled the sobs she was trying and failing to hold back, "Even…even if the chance of success was minute, they were my family…" When Chakotay pulled her against his chest this time she didn't resist, just shook like a leaf in his arms as her feelings were dredged out of her. "I could have corrected everything…I could have saved them…and…and I did not even try…"

Chakotay's heavy, mournful sigh ruffled her hair. "This was a fluke Seven, a crazy, uncertain fluke that none of us could bet our lives on." She felt his Adam's apple move in a gulp, "It's never going to be your fault that you were assimilated, no matter how many temporal anomalies we run into, okay?" He rubbed soothing circles in her back, unsure whether she was quietening from understanding or sheer exhaustion. "You know I would want you free of all the suffering you went through, but God, I'm glad you didn't do it." He admitted guiltily, even as he kissed her face, fervently and possessively. "Where would I be without you?"

"We'll never know that either." Seven mumbled, "Perhaps better off." She tried to stand up, but staggered and fell back.

"Or in an early grave." Chakotay muttered grimly as he caught her. "Let's lie down before we both keel over." He hardly waited for her weak nod before carrying her the few strides to the bed and laying her out on her side, hesitating in joining her only to get off each boot with a frustrated kick. "Let's try and forget about today if we can, alright?"

"I do not think memory works like that Chakotay." Seven murmured ruefully as she let him tuck her head under his arm.

"No, no, I guess it doesn't." Chakotay agreed regretfully as he thoughtfully laced his fingers through the metal webbed ones of her left hand. "You know I'll call you whatever you want. You can be Annika again, if that's…"

Seven shuddered as she tugged the duvet over both of their aching heads, sheltering the two of them in a dark, cosy cocoon where they could pretend they weren't on Voyager for a few hours. "No. I am…will be content with how things are."

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><p><strong>An: Please review. :) **


	85. Sikarian Hospitality

**A/n: This is based on the episode 'Prime Factors' S01xE09. The events of the previous two episodes, 'Ex Post Facto' and 'Emanations' happened in this universe basically according to canon, with Seven in the background of course. ;) I don't own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>Chakotay glanced up from his console, then rose politely to his feet as Captain Janeway bustled in, obviously expecting some sort of action since he'd taken the step of interrupting her lunch with Tuvok in the Mess Hall. He wasn't sure whether to feel regret or relief at passing the reins over, he'd often felt superfluous lately, his days having little variety beyond manning the Bridge during the monotony of peaceful, uninterrupted warp travel and submitting dry status reports to Janeway he knew she barely glanced at. However, whenever he started to feel that bored restlessness bubble up within him, like red hot magma surging under a planet's undisturbed surface as he stoically went about his duties, he'd thankfully remember his fraught years on the Valjean and, for the most part, settle back down. Today at least, Seven had deigned to join him on the quiet Bridge. The work on her lab project, 'Astrometrics' as she'd christened it, had stalled to a halt in the past week. Apparently it wasn't so easy to duplicate the sensors of a Borg vessel with only a limited supply of Federations components to hand. Her mood wasn't the best, but soon enough she'd occupied herself with the plain old Bridge sensors and he could admire her unruffled work ethic in close proximity. The fact that Seven could throw herself utterly into something practical, no matter how mundane, always set a reassuring example for him.<p>

"Report Commander." Janeway requested quickly before she'd even reached him.

"A subspace distress signal is coming from a vessel bearing 125, mark 21." Chakotay informed her, "Distance is 200,000 kilometres."

"Sensors indicate that there are five humanoid lifeforms aboard." Seven added with authority from her own console.

"The vessel is altering its course to intercept us." Tuvok intoned seriously.

Janeway's jaw tightened slightly, her eyes already on the unyielding viewscreen, but her tone was nonplussed. "Go to yellow alert and slow to impulse. Hail them, Mr Kim."

"Aye Captain." Harry obliged. At that moment, as Voyager slowed, the viewscreen was able to present them with a clear image of the vessel. Superficially it appeared non-threatening, actually reminding Janeway of an open flower bud in design, with a softly triangular deflector dish erupting from the top, bottom, and each side of the round, shuttle pod sized vessel. Just as she'd absorbed that image, the aliens opened a visual comm. link. The man at the other end was sitting in a relaxed posture, the opposite of how she would've pictured a Captain in the grip of an emergency. His smile was as languid as his pose, his pleasant gaze open and calm.

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager." She began, "What is the nature of your emergency?" She chided herself internally as she heard the doubtful hesitation in her voice, she needed to stay _utterly _cool.

The alien's expression finally showed some sign of attentiveness, he'd seemed lost in thought as he stared at them, Chakotay didn't like that that first expression seemed to be amusement. "We have no emergency." The man replied smoothly, eyebrows skimming the top of his receding hairline.

Janeway was dumbfounded as she eyed him, prickled by the impression that she'd missed a joke. "But you're sending out a distress call." She reminded him uncertainly. Maybe they'd misread the purpose of the message? Could the universal translators be playing up?

"Yes, we are." The man confirmed in an unconcerned air.

"Why?" Janeway asked blankly.

That frank, easily charming face met her gaze, "Because _you _are in distress." He leaned forward encouragingly into the viewscreen as he saw Voyager's Bridge crew's stunned reaction to his pronouncement. "I am Gathorel Labin of the planet Sikaris. Please, let us welcome you to our system, show you the hospitality of our people."

Janeway flashed him a brief, uneasy smile. "That's very kind of you…"

As if sensing a rebuff, Gathorel Labin jumped in elegantly, "If I could come aboard your ship, I have gifts for you and a proposal I hope you will find irresistible."

Janeway breathed in deeply as she regarded him thoughtfully. Whatever she saw, it made her decision. She looked over at Tuvok, "Mr Tuvok, make the necessary arrangements to receive our guest." She ordered firmly, waiting for the Vulcan to obediently depart before she risked smiling warmly at Gathorel. "We'll contact you when we're ready to beam you over Mr Labin."

"Call me Gath, please." He implored gallantly, even as his sedate eyes suddenly gleamed with fervent anticipation. "I look forward to the experience." He told her more formally, returning Janeway's smile before the comm. line broke off.

Janeway had to shake herself even so slightly, something about the man's manner was…mesmerising. Slowly, she flicked her head towards Seven, "What do you know about this Sikaris and its people?"

Seven exhaled tersely, her brow tempted to furrow. "Regrettably little." She admitted shortly, "Sikarians, provisional designation Species 2904."

"Provisional designation?" The Captain echoed.

Seven pursed her lips, "Yes. The Borg have never actually assimilated a member of the race, but their reputation in the quadrant is extremely long-ranging. The…extravagance of their hospitality is something of an 'urban myth' among hundreds of assimilated species."

"An urban myth that you don't lend much credence to?" Chakotay guessed, hearing the dubious note in her tone.

Seven arched her metallic brow as her eyes found the Sikarian ship on the viewscreen. "I find the motives of a species who would pointlessly send out a distress signal suspect on principle."

"Well…" Tom spoke up, "Their dress sense is suspect for sure." He commented wryly.

The senior officers managed to keep a straight face for the most part, but a couple of the other crewmen on the Bridge couldn't contain their snorts of laughter, even as Janeway shot her pilot a look of mild approbation. Seven wished she felt free enough to laugh, since 'Gath's' attire was eyebrow-raising by human standards; a skin tight jumpsuit that made Neelix's garish collection of attire look beige in comparison, the neckline low cut enough to reveal an eyeful of hairy chest.

"Wait, shouldn't we be _glad _that we've finally found a friendly people, let alone a famously generous one?" Harry asked earnestly.

"Certainly Ensign, that's precisely why I invited him aboard." Janeway assured him.

"It may prove a useful relationship." Seven conceded begrudgingly, "The Sikarians are so unusually the widely travelled that the Collective suspected they had an extremely effective method of transportation that should be assimilated. It was concluded that that same method saved what Sikarians there were visiting other worlds as said world were assimilated."

"I don't want to base our courtesies to our guest on the Collective's speculation…" The Captain told them all carefully, "…but it's all the more reason for us to extend a warm welcome."

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><p>Seven's eyes widened in dread as she saw another bunch of Sikarians glide over their sleek marble paving towards her. Spotting an ornate pillar, useful only for hiding behind, she sidestepped them and breathed a weary sigh of relief as they strode past, their rampant curiosity thankfully not extending to looking round the pillar for her. Again, she wished she'd been as quick as Tuvok in volunteering to remain aboard Voyager while the rest of the crew took their shore leave, but her own scientific curiosity demanded she investigate the Sikarians' mysterious capabilities. The Captain had ordered her to be discreet however, and in trying to obey she'd been unable to break through the Sikarians' constant, cloying flattery and forceful generosity. Only the fact that she'd been able to procure several vital new components for Astrometrics while they assaulted her with offers of exotic foods and fanciful trinkets had made her persevere over a long afternoon down here. She was regretting it somewhat now however, since the Captain had taken her earlier participation as a sign that she'd appreciate attending this evening's party. She wasn't so far.<p>

Chakotay suddenly rounded the pillar, almost colliding with her. "Help!" he hissed breathlessly, "They're hounding me!"

She saw the 'hounds' snapping at his heels a moment later when five young women, dressed to the nines Sikarian style, with outfit and accessories, each coveted from another world, clashing strongly. They gazed at Chakotay with rampantly eager, shining eyes. "Commander…" The brashest of the group began in a wheedling tone, eyelashes flapping, "Aren't you were going to tell us stories! Stories of your life on _Earth_…I'm sure yours…" She looked him up and down appreciatively, "…are particularly stimulating."

Chakotay cleared his throat awkwardly, "Actually, I didn't grow up on Earth. My home was an outlying Federation colony."

"Really?" The woman asked, clapping her large hands. "What was this colony called?"

"Dorvan V." Chakotay answered stiffly after a long pause.

"And are you the only person on Voyager from Dorvan V?" The woman persisted.

Sensing Chakotay growing increasingly uncomfortable, Seven stepped defiantly forward. "I am." In a manner of speaking, she added silently, but the more important thing was to deflect them from Chakotay.

The woman refocused on her, displeasure marring her face for an instant as she recognised the tactic, but the novelty of her presence quickly seized her. "Oh, you're the Borg…person aren't you?" she queried guilelessly.

"A former Borg drone, yes." Seven corrected her terminology.

The women murmured speculatively among themselves but again it was their appointed leader who spoke, "We're heard of the Borg, but we've never had any contact with them. Your experiences must be unique…"

"Unfortunately not." Seven cut her off coldly, "Billons have endured assimilation. I assure you that you do not want to share in that experience."

Again, the woman seemed momentarily vexed at the blunt denial, but her companions had the sense to encourage retreat. "Whatever your pleasure." She told her tightly before turning on her heel and leading the others towards an unsuspecting Ayala.

Chakotay watched them leave, then leaned back against the pillar with a sigh of relief. Seven watched him, now allowing herself some amusement with the situation. "Perhaps you should permit them to hound you, I will not be doing so any time soon."

Chakotay laughed and looped his arm around her waist, giving at an appreciative squeeze. "I've decided it's not my style." He replied in the same wry tone before looking her over in concern, "Have they been asking questions like that all day, about the Borg?"

"Yes." Seven confirmed his suspicion bluntly, before musing, "I suppose I should be glad that one species has not been affected by the Borg, yet it is deeply disturbing that they are so…"

"Blasé?" Chakotay finished, "I know what you mean." Even as he said that however, he observed beyond them to where the crew had spread out, most happily engaged with the Sikarians. "They may be tactless, but I think they mean well, and the crew definitely has needed the 'respite' they offer."

"We are mere novelties to them." Seven argued pessimistically, "I for one do not relish being…googled like a zoological specimen." She too had to acknowledge that her opinion was not in the majority, "However, most of the crew seem to be drawing benefit from it."

Chakotay nodded in agreement on both counts, though he had to smile slightly at the disbelieving tone of her second statement. "They're lonely." He reminded her softly.

"Yes." Seven murmured sadly, subconsciously drawing closer into him, letting Chakotay run his warm hands down her sides. "They, the Sikarians, are solely orientated to find pleasure. Do they ever work? Do anything productive?" she questioned with an endearing incredulity.

Chakotay made a sound between a grunt and a laugh, determined now to distract her more fully. "I'm sure they do…" He answered indulgently, "…since someone had to invent all their technology to make their lives comfortable. "But, is there anything wrong with pleasure, intrinsically?" To prove his point, he playfully nipped the sensitive spot under her ear with his lips.

"No…" The admission caught on Seven's gasp of, yes, pleasure, and she heard the vibrations of Chakotay's huskily wicked chuckle against her skin just as he kissed her neck harder, no longer teasing. A moan started in her throat, vocalising her body's response, but still she pressed a restraining hand behind her onto his chest. "We're in public, Chakotay…" She chided him weakly.

"I'm sure they've seen worse…" Chakotay muttered as he pulled her around to face him. She didn't resist. Until that is, another Sikarian slid up to them, causing Seven to spring away in mortification.

Chakotay shot the man a smouldering glare, frustrated in more ways than one. "Yes?"

"You're welcome to go somewhere more private if you wish, it would give us pleasure to facilitate it." The man said smoothly, "Ensign Kim just accompanied Eudana to Alastria."

"Alastria? Is that another province?" Chakotay questioned, "I think we'd just prefer to go back to Voyager…"

The Sikarian ignored the latter statement. "Province? Of Sikaris? Oh no, Alastria is another planet."

Chakotay stared at him, "Harry is on another _planet_?"

Before the Sikarian, visibly confused by Chakotay's horror, could try to answer, Seven demanded, "How far away is this Alastria?"

The man blinked at her, "Alastria is about two and a half billion times the distance between Sikaris and its sun."

Chakotay stared wide-eyed at Seven, and she didn't disappoint in rapidly interpreting. "That is approximately 40,000 light-years." She told him in a stunned murmur.

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><p><strong>An: Please review. Also, remember to check out NikkiB1973's new C/7 story 'Stay'. I can't recommend the opening chapter highly enough and can hardly wait for the next one! :)**


	86. Hostile to Hope

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>"I can't believe they're not going to help us." Harry muttered in frustrated disbelief, bitterness entering his tone as he read the same emotions in the eyes of some of his fellow officers, and resignation in others. "Some kind of hospitality."<p>

Seven regarded him astutely, "I do not believe providing us with extremely advanced technology, unknown outside of the Sikarian race, necessarily falls within the definition of hospitality Ensign." She reminded him wearily.

B'Elanna shook her head absently, missing Seven's splash of the cold water of reality as her mind roamed through the possibilities. "40,000 light-years! Even if that's as far as we could go, it would still knock about four decades of our trip."

"And the possibility exists…" Chakotay avoided meeting Seven's eye, "…that we could reconfigure the matrix at that point to take us 30,000 light-years. Right into Federation space."

"Since they've already said no, this kind of thinking is only going to make you feel worse." Tuvok opined seriously. Janeway, having known him for so long, picked up on an unusual sharpness in the reprimand. There was so much riding on this idea, this possibility, for all of them.

"It's the first time we've been on the other side of the fence." She mused succinctly, glancing around the table to gauge her people's reactions.

Tom reacted first, though with a blank frown. "What fence?"

"The one that's made of binding principles." Janeway clarified as she leaned over the table, grasping the metaphor by the horns as she explained it intently, "We have our own set of rules, which includes the Prime Directive." She inhaled deeply as she let her point sink in, but still stood to deliver her next one, "How many times have we been in the position of refusing to interfere when some kind of disaster threatened an alien culture?" Her lips twisted ruefully as she turned towards the window, staring out at the stars Starfleet had instructed her to explore in dignified non-interference. "It's all very well to say we do it on the basic of an enlightened principle, but how does that feel to the aliens? I'm sure many of them think the Prime Directive is a lousy idea."

"I can confirm that most do." Seven informed her stiffly.

"Even we think so sometimes." Tom reminded them without humour.

Chakotay sighed tersely, "I know of many times when Starfleet personnel have decided, on strong ethical grounds, to ignore it." Like the many, though unconnected to the DMZ colonies, who had joined the Maquis. Starfleet and the Federation had always stuck by the peace treaty deciding that many colonies were now Cardassian, meaning that the Prime Directive applied. They hadn't intervened even as their own citizens were forced from homes many had claimed since not long after Starfleet's foundation.

"Still, there's a reason why it's Starfleet's General Order No.1." Harry admitted defensively, "On the whole, it does a lot more good than harm."

Tuvok spoke up, "Captain, it occurs to me that we know little about the Sikarians. We cannot assume that their first refusal is unalterable." He paused thoughtfully, "It may be that 'No' is simply a prelude to negotiation."

"He's right." B'Elanna jumped in, "Maybe they can be reasoned with?"

"Maybe they want something?" Harry suggested, "Maybe they'll bargain?"

"But what do we have to offer?" Tom pointed out, "They seem to have everything they need."

"Stories." Harry realised suddenly, "Stories are an important part of their culture. They seem to provide more than entertainment. They're kind of a measuring rod of values and beliefs." A smile, hopeful and more than a little subversive, sat oddly on his young face. "We have a huge library in our databanks. We could offer them the whole thing. All the great literature of dozens of cultures."

"What do you think Captain?" Chakotay asked, "Would they be interested?"

A smile formed slowly on Janeway's lips as she turned away from the window to face them all again. "They just might be." She answered, eyes brightening. "From what we've seen of them, they're a remarkably pleasure-orientated people. They might appreciate a gift of literature." Her voice lightened as her mind moved from consideration to decision, "I'll arrange to meet with Gath. As magistrate he has the authority to make this decision."

"Perhaps we should not ask them to make it." Seven advised quietly, her composure unwavering even as every pair of eyes in the room fixed on her, stunned.

"Why do you say that Seven?" Chakotay asked, genuinely dumbfounded. He knew that she had no love of rules that were 'insufficiently flexible to circumstance', particularly the Prime Directive after all she'd seen and experienced.

"Because their law has obviously been effective." Seven answered simply, "This technology is unknown beyond Sikaris, despite their wide travels. I would presume that most of the other species they have come into contact with have also requested it, either by force, coercion, or both." She ignored Harry's slight flush at her allusion to his bribe, "Yet it appears that they have not surrendered it and as intended it has not fallen into wrong hands." She stiffened ever so slightly in her chair, "I do not think I need to tell you the consequences of the Borg assimilating such technology."

The room fell deathly silent for a few seconds as the horrible import of what Seven had said hit, but Harry still scrambled to keep hold of his hope. "But like we told the Sikarians, _we _wouldn't abuse it, and we'd certainly destroy it if we ran into the Borg!"

"It can also not be assumed Seven, that just because the Borg have not assimilated the Sikarians themselves yet, that they will never be able to." Tuvok added with logic that Seven, judging from her immediate frown, couldn't deny.

"That's right!" Harry agreed, "If that's the case, why shouldn't we benefit from it now?"

Chakotay felt the need to defend Seven, despite the resentment that had flared with everyone else's when she'd polluted frustrated hope with uneasiness. "Because it's a slippery slope." He answered Harry grimly, "If they give it to us, and then they give it to another race who misuse it…"

"That wouldn't be our fault." B'Elanna argued, "You're getting very hypothetical here." She shot Seven a hard, disbelieving glare, "Seven I can't believe you, of all people, aren't desperate to take a look at this technology! Technology that could get us home right now!"

"I assure you that I am experiencing the same curiosity as any of you." Seven replied tightly, "After all, feasible space folding technology is a revolutionary concept…" She trailed off, her gaze stubbornly frank. "But the idea that we could adapt their trajectory platforms is also hypothetical, as is the assumption that the Sikarians are capable of providing us with it if they wanted to. From what I have seen of their wholly frivolous culture, I would not be surprised if the scientific innovation and knowledge required to adapt the technology died out several generations ago."

Janeway coloured almost imperceptibly as she thought of Gath, "The Sikarians are a race with a highly evolved intelligence Seven."

Seven was unrepentant, "Yes, but they are also indolent. Do you believe that they would find pleasure in struggling to adapt a technology that already serves _their _needs perfectly?"

B'Elanna sighed irritably as she had to agree with Seven this time. "We don't necessarily need them., I'll take a look at that trajectory platform." She said confidently, "Maybe I can figure out how it works."

"You'll do nothing of the sort Lieutenant!" The Captain checked her sharply, her jaw locking as she stared them all down. "If I find this law is negotiable, I'll make every attempt to get the technology. But until then, we won't do anything that might violate their canon of laws as we understand it." With a brisk nod, she stepped back from the table, effectively closing any discussion. "That's all."

Seven rose to leave quickly, the wary agitation in her chest only rising as she saw B'Elanna and Harry, the two most invested in this situation, hang back. Well, she wasn't going to make another attempt to convince them, mostly because she couldn't define her own feelings well enough to attempt to dictate theirs…

"Seven?" Chakotay's voice, his warm hand taking her elbow, interrupted her thoughts. "What's wrong?"

Seven bristled, "You heard what I said Chakotay." She answered shortly.

"And I heard what everyone else said too." Chakotay replied smoothly, unperturbed by her tone. "You've taken this to heart, as much as those who believe they know this is going to work." His palm slid slowly down her arm, making her shiver, until he held her Borg hand. "I know it can't have been comfortable for you to bring up that point about the Borg, but…"

"It wasn't." Seven cut him off, "But I am not jaded." She sighed as she realised she sounded defensive even to her own ears.

"Seven, if you were truly jaded, you probably wouldn't be alive now." Chakotay murmured, regarding her intently. He knew many people, maybe even most, would give up on life if they'd had to endure what Seven had. Given who badly he'd spiralled after his father's death, he regretfully suspected he would be one of them.

Seven sighed heavily, her head dropping shamefully. "I have…a bad feeling." She mumbled uncertainly, feeling the familiar frustration consume her when she couldn't express herself properly. Her head snapped up, looking at Chakotay with a hint of pleading in her anxious gaze. "Why can't we just leave now?"

"Don't get disheartened Seven, we haven't even asked the Sikarians again yet…" Chakotay began.

"I am not who is at risk of being disheartened!" Seven told him sharply, "Nothing good is going to come of prolonging this situation with the Sikarians." She pulled her hand out of Chakotay's and put her arms across her chest. "The danger of irrational hope in humanoids should not be underestimated."

Chakotay hesitated for a moment, then put his fingers under her bring to bring her eyes back up to his. "This whole journey is based, on some level, on irrational hope. If it wasn't we would've settled down on the first peaceful M class planet we came across."

Seven regarded him resignedly, "There are no such planets in the vicinity where we wouldn't run the risk of soon being unwelcome."

Chakotay sighed tiredly, "I know." He replied in the same tone as he kissed her briefly, reassuringly, on the lips. "The Captain is only going to ask the Sikarians, and I know she'll respect their answer if they say no. If that happens, no one's going to want to hang around here and we'll not be any worse off than we were yesterday." He smiled at her gently, "Everything will be fine."

"I suppose my anxiety is no more objective than the excessive hope of the others." Seven conceded ruefully, trying her best to return his smile.

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><p><strong>An: Please review. :) Also, Teya, one of my favourite ever C/7 writers, posted a new story last week, 'Infinite Combinations'. Check it out, you won't regret it! Thanks for writing Teya!**


	87. Canary

"I've finished the maintenance check on the shock attenuation cylinders." B'Elanna announced as she crossed Engineering, primarily addressing Seska, who was still her first call for a sympathetic ear, at least where Engineering issues were concerned; she often wondered how Chakotay had passed that element of Starfleet training, but then Seven of Nine had only been a comm. call away. "They'll need replacing in another 2,000 hours…" She ran a hand briefly over her face, forcing down the bubble of dread that always rose up when she thought about how the hell they were supposed to find replacement parts over the span of a seven decade journey. "…but we'll face that problem when we come to it." That brush off sounded lame rather than brave, and she expected Seska to burst in with a mildly sarcastic quip or, better than that, a suggestion, but nothing. "Seska?"

The Bajoran woman, uncharacteristically turned away from her console, head low, jumped violently. "Sorry!" She heaved a breath and turned shakily in her chair to face B'Elanna, only then did her friend realise how strained the other woman's face looked. "I wasn't concentrating. What did you say?"

"You looked a million light years away." B'Elanna agreed softly as she left her work and approached her.

"No." Seska replied heavily, her gaze again becoming distant as her jaw tightened, "Only about 70,000." Her lips tried to quirk upwards ruefully as B'Elanna dipped her eyes for an instant before concernedly refocusing on her face. She hesitated for a moment, then elaborated, "My brother's birthday is in four days. Last year I promised I'd meet him on Nivoch…" Her voice cracked but she said the next words tenderly, obviously cherishing the memory of the conversation, "…celebrate with him." Her eyes darkened as resentment and grief further roughed her smooth voice. She turned her pained face away from B'Elanna. "He'll think I broke my promise…that I'm dead."

B'Elanna swallowed, compassion solidifying an idea that had been drifting around the back of her mind. Without saying anything to Seska, what could she say, she hastened back to the wall console behind her. This was enough to pull Seska out of her wallowing at once, she was instantly at B'Elanna's shoulder, "What are you doing?"

B'Elanna held up a hand to shush her. "I've been thinking, the folding of space should leave a subspace residue. If we can detect one, we might be a step closer to knowing how the trajector works."

Seska squinted at the readings B'Elanna's new scans were bringing up on the screen. "Look at that neutrino dispersal pattern." It spread out like a blooming flower, with Sikaris as its centre. "Could that be a result of space folding?"

"Maybe." B'Elanna murmured thoughtfully, "If the device creates a neutrino bubble around whatever is being trajected."

"If that's the case…" Both woman startled as they heard Lieutenant Carey's voice, "…we'd need a bubble big enough for the ship." His usually frosty face softened as he met their wide eyes, his own brown orbs warm. "Don't worry Lieutenant." He assured B'Elanna gently, "I'm with you on this one." He shifted uncomfortably before trying to provide the justification they all needed, "After all, it doesn't hurt to theorise."

"Right!" Seska agreed, suddenly bright. "And hypothetically, if we could modify the deflector array to emit phased neutrinos…"

"You could create a big enough bubble." Seven finished, separated by the three of them by Seska's console, standing there like a sentry, hands behind her back. "Ifsuch a bubble would facilitate the trajector technology is as yet unknown." Her eyes swept over Carey's face, "No amount of theorising will make it any less unknown." She reminded them quietly, "I suggest we suppress the urge to hypothesis until our access to the technology is more certain."

"And if we don't get that access?" Seska asked, voice low but sharp, "Are we just supposed to forget about technology that could get us home tomorrow?"

Seven exhaled, struggling not to flinch, not because of Seska's aggressive tone, she was accustomed to that, but because there was some truth in what the other woman was saying. She _couldn't _expect the crew to be above the temptation of opportunity, not when she was holding a PADD of her own calculations behind her back. Her opinion of the Sikarians hadn't changed, she doubted they would go out of their way to assist them, and adapting what was apparently a planetary based system to a vessel based one was a challenge that was more likely to be gruelling than pleasurable. Still, she'd found herself sifting through the data within her cortical node on the principles of space folding, how far those species than had pursued the method had progressed. Few species had found it viable, and those that had had very different technology, different physiology, compared to that of Voyager and its crew. However, her information was outdated, and the Borg had never assimilated the Sikarian technology. This gap in her knowledge was frustrating to say the least. "I realise that it is difficult to accept that we may not…"

"No, I don't think you do understand!" Seska cut her off shortly, getting into Seven's face, her eyes almost pleading in their impotent anger. "You, of all people, I thought, would want to get this for us." She said forcefully, "Weren't you assimilated in this quadrant after all? We _can't _be expected to happily travel through it for seventy years just to give those Sikarians peace of mind."

B'Elanna saw Seven blanch for an instant and instinctively put her hand on Seska's arm to stop her. "Seska…" She herself had never known any of the particulars of Seven's assimilation and hadn't really wanted to, but now it had a chilling relevance. "That's enough." Seska's eyes glinted, perhaps with tears, as she stepped back. B'Elanna knew she was lashing out because of her brother, probably even resented that Seven had likely overheard the confidence; she hated feeling vulnerable and Seven wasn't her favourite person, but that didn't excuse the low blow.

Seven shot B'Elanna a grateful look, glad of the few extra seconds her intervention had given her to recover. The idea of Seska being privy to her past was unnerving enough, but the fact that Chakotay had undoubtedly been the one to tell her was worse…. "I…I can assure you that I am as invested in returning to the Alpha Quadrant as any member of this crew." She answered Seska stiltedly, "I have to concede however, that I am wary of using the Sikarian technology."

"That's why we should learn everything about it we can." Carey responded, "We're engineers, it's in our nature to be curious. Our theorising will either be of no use, or will give us a foot up when the Sikarians _do _provide us with the technology."

Seven regarded Carey silently for a moment, her face unreadable. "I cannot find fault in your logic Lieutenant." She conceded mutedly.

"Neither can I." B'Elanna said cautiously, "We'll see what we can do." She nodded to Seven in acknowledgement, "In theory, of course." She smiled, but little of her usual excitement that consumed her when she was close to solving to problem came to soothe her frazzled nerves. Seska was oblivious, taking her words at face value, immediately she began thrashing out ideas with Carey in hushed tones. She didn't bother to tune in, their ideas were bound to go around in circles a few times before they settled on pursuing anything…if they even got the opportunity to do so. She sighed bitterly, her jaw locking as she saw Seven retreat silently. That was just like her, dropping a bombshell and then stepping back to impassively watch the fallout. Well, maybe that wasn't fair, but she _did _resent having to take the middle ground between Seska's gung-ho, emotive nature and Seven's cold, professional pessimism.

She expertly weaved between the consoles and caught up with Seven's long strides, tapping her pointedly on the elbow. "Listen…" She began awkwardly, "Seska was out of line…talking about your parents. All I can say is that she's under a lot of pressure…"

"As we all are." Seven reminded her tersely, hardly meeting B'Elanna's gaze as continued on her way out of Engineering.

B'Elanna flinched, "Alright, wait for Seska to apologise then, and good luck with that." That retort finally made Seven stop in her tracks and face B'Elanna fully, scanning her face intently for a moment before apparently deciding to see the humour in the situation, her metallic brow twitching weakly. "In my judgement, it's a good idea to pursue this as much as we can until we know one way or another." She was speaking in all seriousness now, and Seven realised as much.

"You may be right." She conceded quietly. After all they _didn't _know how their interactions with the Sikarians would conclude and, she thought particularly of the PADD clutched in her damp hands, she hadn't exactly been patiently and passively awaiting their fate. Perhaps to criticise B'Elanna's more open, honest speculation was hypocritical. Could she even trust her own judgement? She'd been on the verge of changing twenty years of history just weeks before. Her parents had followed the Borg on a whim of scientific curiosity. She couldn't argue that B'Elanna would ever consider anything so extreme, but she was obligated to ensure the risk wasn't as great. Taking a deep breath to settle her building stress headache and steady her grip, she pushed the PADD at a surprised B'Elanna. "This data may assist you." She forced out as she grimly watched B'Elanna's gaze greedily drink in her calculations. "However, I cannot help you further until we have been given free access to the Sikarian technology."

B'Elanna's head snapped up as she bristled, hearing an accusation in Seven's words, but one look at the blonde's genuinely pensive face made any hot words fizzle out on her tongue. "Fair enough." She hated seeing her own unease reflected on Seven's usually impassive face. God, this limbo was torture, even an ex-drone was affected. So much for the Sikarians idea of respite! "I'm sure the Captain will come to the right decision." She grimaced internally, even to her own ears her voice had an edge of threat to it.

Seven didn't seem to pick up on it, her frown was distracted. "Carey is incorrect B'Elanna. Theorising can hurt."

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><p>Chakotay's eyes automatically glanced around as he heard the Bridge's turbolift doors open. He hardly hesitated when he saw it was Seven, easily dismissing any concerns of professional decorum as he read her taut posture, her hands clenched at her sides. He was in command of the Bridge for the moment anyway, and as such could approach the Science Officer without any pretext. If anyone did have the nerve to question why, he could fairly say that if Seven was unnerved, he had reason to be more so. He doubted she'd find the comparison to a miner's canary flattering, or even understand the reference, but in his experience it was apt. The fact that she was making a beeline for the Captain's Ready Room without even glancing at him, metaphorically blinkered, really set the alarm bells ringing through his head. Rising smoothly from his chair, he loped up the single step separating the two levels of the Bridge and gently gripped Seven's arm. "What's up?" He asked, his voice low, head bowed towards her ear.<p>

Seven shook him off absently, keeping her eyes on the Ready Room door. "Engineering has finished the maintenance check on the shock attenuation cylinders." She informed him haltingly, grasping onto the first piece of benign data that came to mind.

"Right." Chakotay muttered, watching her intently. He decided to take a guess if she wasn't going to be frank with him right away. "And how are they doing down there otherwise?"

Seven's lips managed a wry twitch. "Their general efficiency is…acceptable." She dropped the pretence before Chakotay had even fully let out a mildly exasperated sigh. "Engineering, in fact the entire crew, seem…restless."

Chakotay briefly ran a hand over his brow as he glanced ruefully at the viewscreen and sweeping vista of Sikaris it provided. "That's to be expected." His voice dropped further, so that only she could hear. "This dilemma isn't what I'd call respite."

Seven nodded, relieved that he was echoing her own thoughts. "I concur."

"Just half an hour ago I was trying to dissuade Harry from returning to the surface." Chakotay continued with a heavy sigh, "It was futile of course."

Seven finally turned to face him, face utterly bemused. "Why would he do that?" she demanded bluntly, astounded.

Chakotay smiled wryly, Seven's real confusion suppressing any real amusement. "Because Eudana asked him. It wouldn't have been fair to order him not to meet her."

Seven couldn't quite hide the scoff in her tone. "He has only been acquainted with her for a few hours. Considering our awkward position with the Sikarian government, I do not think it wise that he engages in fraternisation."

"Seven…" Chakotay checked her, "Remember it might be awhile before Harry can 'fraternise' again, this isn't a big crew." He touched her shoulder as she slowly nodded in agreement, somewhat shamefaced. "Harry's been hit hard by all this, he experienced the trajector and hopes so badly that we'll be able to use it. If some time with Eudana can help him forget all this for a while, then that can only be a good thing…"

"I suppose you are familiar with that logic." Seven muttered tersely, regretting the bitter words as soon as they left her mouth.

Chakotay blinked at her. "What do you mean by that?"

Wasn't that what you were doing with Seska, recklessly seeking comfort? As well as telling her about _my _past? Seven asked herself, but wasn't quite brave enough to utter the question to him. If getting entangled with women when his mind was in turmoil was truly his pattern, then what did that mean for their own relationship, the spark between them only catching after they were stranded on the other side of the galaxy? No, that couldn't be true. Actually accepting what she knew, that he had once loved Seska as he loved her now, might be preferable to that demeaning scenario, though she didn't like either of them. "It is irrelevant, merely a passing thought." She assured him hurriedly, only pausing for breath when she saw him nod. "I feel I should reiterate my concerns to the Captain."

Chakotay mulled over his reply for a second, "You made yourself clear at the briefing, but maybe it is getting to the point where she needs to hear you out again." He told her cautiously, "I'll come with you." He did honestly think that, as hours continued to pass by without any sign of a change in the Sikarian position that the Captain might need to listen to calls to declare the trajector a lost cause, but equally he didn't think the Captain would take kindly to being pushed to a decision before she was ready to make it.

Seven shook her head, not willing to involve Chakotay directly in this. His role as leader of the Maquis, a rebel, made him vulnerable and he wasn't used to that yet. She was used to a certain level of dismissal as an ex-drone, but Chakotay certainly wasn't. She would fight this minor battle for him. "She will not swallow me Chakotay." She assured him drily.

Chakotay didn't bother to correct the idiom to 'eat' and nor did he push the issue. He could see the determined glint in her eye and recognised what it meant. "No, she won't, but remember she _is _our Captain."

Seven smirked wanly at him. "I have fully assimilated the hierarchy of this ship _Commander_." With that, propelled confidently forward with his chuckle in her ears, she strode away from him and gave the Ready Room's bell a single, sharp tap.

* * *

><p>"Come in." Janeway called out as she heard the beep from the door, gladly looking up from her latest message from Gath. '<em>Join me for a stroll through the city's Garden District tonight.' <em>Charming yes, but serious, no. And seriousness was what she needed, if these negotiations were going to go anywhere. The one time he was being serious was when he told you it was impossible, a small, irritating inner voice murmured. She narrowly avoided greeting her visitor with a grimace as she struggled to shove the thought to the back of her mind. "Seven!" she greeted in surprise, a little too brightly, glad of the distraction. "What can I do for you?"

"I would like to speak to you Captain." Seven stated blandly, following precedent by positioning herself precisely halfway between the door and Janeway's desk. Obviously Seven didn't believe in the power of positive body language. She stood there, still and silent as the Roman marble statue her disciplined body resembled.

"Of course." Janeway replied easily. "Go on." She urged when Seven still said nothing, rising slowly from her desk to approach the younger woman.

"Captain, I believe this uncertainty around the use of the trajector technology is having a detrimental effect on the crew."

Janeway half smiled at her. When Seven did decide to speak, she went in for the kill, so to speak. Efficient. After struggling with the shifting, mesmerising sands of her interactions with the undeniably slick Gath, the girl's bluntness was refreshing. "The rumours have started already have they?"

"Yes." Seven confirmed, though she seemed a bit taken aback by that reply. "I find it…disconcerting."

"It can be." Janeway conceded understandingly, studying her carefully. "But it's also perfectly natural among a group of hopeful individuals. The stakes are high, they're just blowing off steam."

"I am familiar with rumours." Seven informed her stiffly, "But on the Valjean they were of a different nature, people would wonder if their friends were really on the ship that was just destroyed, or didn't want to believe a colony had been…claimed by the Cardassians."

Janeway gave her a sharp look, then caught herself. It was likely true enough, and somehow Seven's matter-of-fact tone was harder to argue with than Chakotay's passion. "Then I'm sure they do worry you."

"I was raised to believe that a lack of consensus within a Collective is weakness." Seven said firmly, not directly answering the Captain's conciliatory comment. "The prospect of this trajector technology is causing such dissension. For some, the possibility of it working is tantalising, whatever the real chances of claiming such technology and making it operational are. Prolonging the hope may make the morale crisis deeper than it would otherwise be."

"You're saying that we should cut our losses, so to speak, and go before I have to tell the crew the Sikarians give as a definite no." The Captain murmured thoughtfully.

"They have already given us a no Captain." Seven reminded her shortly, "To pursue the probable fiction that the answer could change is…"

"Misguided?" Janeway finished for her tightly before sighing tiredly, "Maybe so. But it's a catch 22 Seven, do you know that expression?"

Seven's brow furrowed, "It refers to a situation in a book of the same title by Joseph Hiller, where each solution to the problem throws up an equal number of subsequent problems."

"Right." Janeway agreed, "You do understand why I can't ignore this opportunity, can't ignore any opportunity, in our situation don't you? That would rightly destroy all crew morale. We're dependent on new technology, on spatial anomalies to stand a chance of getting home in our lifetimes!" She paused for breath, starting to pace, "That said, I'm not a masochist, if any such opportunity turns out to be…futile as you would say, either impossible or incompatible with the Starfleet values I swore to uphold, then I'll accept that we'll need to find another way."

"That is perhaps easier said than done." Seven said quietly, though there was a new respect in her tone that Janeway appreciated.

"So is everything worthwhile in life." Janeway whispered thickly, then shook herself. "This crew have had to come to terms with worse than this."

"What if they do not wish to come to terms with the loss of this opportunity?" Seven questioned, eyes wary.

Janeway had learned to trust her gut over her years in command. She didn't know Seven well yet, but something in the tone of her voice, robotic though it was, made her eyes snap up to her controlled face. "Do you have a reason to think that will happen?"

"No Captain." Seven answered, forcing her clear memories of what B'Elanna and the others were pursuing in Engineering out of her mind. She might not entirely trust the wisdom of their presumption, but she could emphasise with them. Their actions would likely be applauded by the wider, hopeful crew, and were just as likely to never be required. She wasn't going to 'throw them under a bus' to use one of Tom's antiquated expressions, she wasn't sure what a bus was but thought she could grasp the general meaning, for doing what everyone, including the Captain was tempted to do. If Janeway wasn't tempted, she would've followed her advice and left. She could see the conflict in Janeway's face even now despite her grand statements. "It is difficult."

"Yes." Janeway swallowed with a gulp as she patted her on the arm. "Forgive me Seven, but you seem just as unsettled as the most hopeful crewmember." Like Chakotay before her, she made an educated guess as Seven tensed in confirmation, "You don't need to feel responsible for this Seven. I know we've all put a certain level of pressure on you over these past months, expecting you to be a font of Borg knowledge, but the fact that you don't know any more about the Sikarians than the rest of us isn't a failure on your part. I can assure you that no one sees it that way." She gave her an almost motherly smile, suddenly remembering that Seven was the same age as Harry Kim, but only Harry got the excusing prefix 'young'. It was the same for almost all her senior officers. As old for their years as they all seemed, she had to be their leader. "Try to remember that, okay? Take it easy."

Seven was surprised by how much of a weight, one she'd hardly been aware of, the Captain's words took off her shoulders. Part of her was unnerved that the Captain knew her enough to be astute as to her feelings, she wasn't sure it was a wholly good thing to be anything less than opaque to the older woman, but for the moment she was grateful. "Thank you Captain." She managed to murmur sincerely, "I appreciate that."

"Anytime Seven." Janeway reassured her softly, surprised that she really meant the sentiment.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Please review. After you've read this, remember to check out cojack's new story 'Legacy', it was updated recently with a brilliant fourth chapter! :)**


	88. Immoral Compasses

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

* * *

><p>"Did Jaret explain what he meant when he said Gath had no intention of helping us leave?" Janeway asked Harry tightly, glad that she had her training, her 'Captain's stance', hands on hips, head confidently forward. She had to <em>look <em>as if she had deftly caught this curveball, even if in reality she was having difficulty picking it up from the cold, hard ground of reality.

"No." Harry answered unhesitatingly. The disappointment that was so evident on his young, transparent face punched that one little word into her gut, "He just made it clear that the only way to get the technology is from him."

"He may simply want us to believe that, so that we will deal with him." Tuvok pointed out calmly.

Janeway kept her eyes on his face for a moment, but couldn't deceive herself with his rationale enough to ignore her gut feeling. She looked away. "Possibly." She swallowed, "But somehow I suspect he's right." She refocused on Harry, she could berate herself on her susceptibility to Gath's charms later, if her suspicion was proved right. "Thank you for coming to me with this Ensign. It may muddy the situation somewhat, but it helps me force the issue. Dismissed."

Harry nodded obediently, "Good night Captain." He glanced respectfully at Tuvok, "Lieutenant." Janeway waited until he'd left before she turned away from Tuvok's enigmatic gaze, preferring for a moment, the equally inscrutable stars outside the window.

"Maybe Seven of Nine was right." She muttered to herself.

"Captain?" Tuvok asked enquiringly, thus proving that he, of course, was observing her, expectant, not just awaiting dismissal.

"She was just in here an hour ago, advising me that we should leave before the crew's hopes are dashed."

Tuvok highly doubted Seven had phrased it precisely as such, but it hardly mattered. "That would've perhaps been a logical argument if the situation with the Sikarians had a foregone negative conclusion, but events are yet to fully play out. The option of leaving an opportunity behind because of a difficult decision is not one I would've thought viable for you."

"It's not." Janeway confirmed tiredly, "As I told Seven, I can't just leave this unexplored. I owe it to the crew, to myself, to pursue any lead on a route home to the end." She sank down onto the couch, "But that only justifies my decision to continue with this, it doesn't help me with what I should do now!"

"You seem to have two options." Tuvok began as he moved to join her on the couch, "Continue to negotiate with a man who may have a hidden agenda, or deal with a man who is willing to defy his own laws."

"Not very pretty choices." Janeway murmured, unable to keep the despondency entirely from her tone.

"If you deal with Jaret, it is his law that is being compromised, not ours." Tuvok reminded her.

"But does that matter?" Janeway asked, genuine doubt and confusion marring her strong features. "I told the crew when we started this journey that we'd be a Starfleet crew." Her voice became empathic, "Behaving as Starfleet would expect us to. That means there is a certain standard I have to uphold." She breathed an agitated sigh, "Principles, principles! That's what it comes down to." Resentment, self-doubt and frustration made her voice ragged, her posture stiff. "Do I compromise my almighty principles?" She leaned forward, looking at Tuvok almost pleadingly, "But how can I not compromise them if it involves getting my crew more than halfway home? How do I tell them my principles are so important, I would deny them that opportunity?" She'd held onto those principles once at the expense of her crew and Chakotay's, to save the lives of the Ocampa, but could she really make the same decision again, just to be morally superior to Jaret? Was being able to look her Starfleet superiors in the eye when she got back and honestly tell them she'd never wavered from their rules worth over seven decades of her crew's lives? Of her own life?

Tuvok, tellingly, was silent for a few seconds before he mustered a reply. "I believe the first thing you must do is determine whether or not Gath is willing to use the trajectory to help us. If that possibility exists at all, you must explore it."

Janeway's face relaxed and she gave if a relieved, if weak smile. "You're right." She patted his arm, gratitude thickening her voice, "Thank you Tuvok."

* * *

><p>Chakotay had known Janeway's meeting with Gath hadn't gone well as soon as he'd heard her curt order for transport through the comm. system but he braced himself further when he saw her in the flesh, stalking onto the bridge, the muscles locking her jaw practically breaking through her skin, arms pinned to her sides like a toy soldier. "Cancel all shore leave and recall the away teams. We've been asked to leave." She ordered him brusquely.<p>

Unfortunately, the closest thing Kathryn Janeway seemed to get to real stoicism was a level of wounded imperiousness, but this time Chakotay could empathise with the wounded part and regarded her understandingly, even as he caught Seven's grim gaze over the woman's shoulder. "Aye, Captain." He agreed, moving to his console to issue the order.

Seven sighed as she studied the scene, with her enhanced hearing able to hear every word of the Captain's conversation with Tuvok. She was surprised by how much it saddened her, the thought that the Captain had likely been the most hurt of all of them by being 'strung along'. No, the older woman hadn't heeded her warning, but that didn't mean she'd brought this pain on herself or the crew either. She consciously tuned out of Tuvok and Janeway's conversation, suddenly ashamed of her eavesdropping, but Janeway had already cut it off. Jaret's offer was not tempting enough to her apparently. Seven wished the same could be said of the whole crew. She hadn't left the Bridge, but she knew that the offer was known ship-wide. It seemed Ensign Kim had gone through a dilemma of his own, and informed others of it, before he'd told the Captain. She hoped he hadn't understood how efficient this crew was at disseminating information, otherwise she couldn't excuse his unwise indiscretion.

"Captain…" Chakotay called to Janeway, "It'll take hours to get everyone up. We've got crewmembers scattered throughout both hemispheres." And that doesn't count the few who might've tried out the trajectory, he mentally added drily, but he knew better than to point out this irony to the Captain.

"Get them back as quickly as you can Commander." Janeway replied, her voice was strained and Chakotay thought for a moment he could even hear a stricken sniff from her, "I think we've overextended our stay. I'll be in my ready room." His impression was confirmed when she practically bolted from the Bridge as soon as those words were out of her mouth, Tuvok staring after her.

* * *

><p>"I've downloaded the Federation library, it's all in these chips." Seska laid down the data chips as if they were in fact poker chips, and B'Elanna knew she was ready to play her hand. "We know the man to contact. He wants the library and he doesn't care who gives it to him."<p>

B'Elanna looked at Carey, the Starfleet officer who'd once fought her at every turn, for help. If ever she needed him to check her compass, the direction of her actions it was now. "We're under orders…"

"B'Elanna!" Seska interjected, not about to be circumvented. She got right in her face. "Our people are still fighting the Cardassians. _Dying _for our cause. Settlers in the demilitarised zone are still under attack." Her green eyes lost their urgent, fanatical gleam, softening into memory and conviction. "We made a promise B'Elanna that we'd all stick together until the zone was safe. And I intend to keep that promise."

"I've a wife and two little boys." Carey told her, eyes creased with determination as well as agony. "I don't want them to grow up without a father." He gave Seska a glance of understanding, but focused on B'Elanna, "I'd do anything to prevent that."

"We're not the only ones. Everyone wants to get back." Seska argued convincingly, there was after all no denying that everyone wanted to get home. "They're just waiting for someone to act."

"I've been working on the theory that the trajectory operates with a neutrino envelope." Carey confided, "If that's true, I think we can use it as many times as we need." He saw that B'Elanna wasn't fully committed even then. "Until we're all the way home."

.Seska watched B'Elanna gulp and chose to give her wavering friend that one last push to fall on the right side. "Just think, by tomorrow we could be there."

B'Elanna's eyes flicked away from Seska's intense ones, turning inward for a moment. "All right…" She said quietly, "…let's do it."

B'Elanna felt as if she was drowning in a tide that pushing her helplessly forward as she found herself leading them to the transporter room. But she'd made her decision, it was too late, too important, to do anything but keep her head above water in all this. "With shore leave cancelled, are we able to get to the surface undetected?"

"We'll have to override the security lockout, but that shouldn't be a problem." Seska explained with all the authority and confidence that her position as a transporter technician gave her.

"It's not accepting my security code…" Carey countered.

"Reinitialise the lockout buffers." Seska instructed sharply.

"I did, it's not working…" Carey began to reply in frustration, only to be interrupted by the swish of the doors opening.

Seven didn't step fully inside the doorway, her eyes only registering surprise when she saw a glimpse of relief on B'Elanna's face at the sight of her as well as the horror of Carey and the venom of Seska. "You downloaded the library." She stated bluntly, her eyes narrowing in questioning disbelief at B'Elanna, "What happened to the idea of only theorising?"

B'Elanna flushed, her own barely restrained shame and doubt flooding her. Seska pushed her aside to join Carey at the transporter console. "You altered the security sub-routine!" she snapped at Seven accusingly, "You had to be sneaky in actually stopping us didn't you? You just came down here to gloat…"

"I did not alter the sub-routine." Seven replied honestly, the unease and dread that had brought her down here intensifying exponentially. What was going on here? "I...I suspected someone may download the library and when I saw that it had been done…"

"You came here to stop us?" Carey questioned, "Or to help us?"

"I…" Seven began, feeling her throat close over as she found herself unable to answer. She'd been asking herself the same question ever since she'd left the Bridge with no clearer answer. If she'd _really _been intent on stopping them, she could've disabled the entire transporter system from the Bridge, but instead she'd chosen to confront them. Why?

"Never mind!" Seska exclaimed, "Beam me down." She sprinted towards the transporter pad.

"Are you crazy?!" B'Elanna demanded, "Security will find you out before you get there!"

It was Seska's actions, the thought that she was about to follow Seska in anything, that gave Seven her answer. She grasped the Bajoran by the arm, wrenching the case of library chips from her hands. "This is…crazy." She mumbled as she met Seska's enraged, irrational gaze. "This irrational plan must be terminated before it does any further damage…"

"Stop Seven." Tuvok's voice intervened smoothly behind her. If Seven had lesser reflexes, she would've dropped the case. As it was, she dazedly handed it over to him, hardly taking in that, oddly, he was also carrying another case. Had another group already attempted the same course of action?

Tuvok wordlessly took the case from her and walked up to the transporter console. "I altered the security sub-routine. Any attempt to override the lockout would have alerted me to your presence here." He moved again to stand in front of Seska, holding the case Seven had given him under her nose. "Is this Voyager's library which you intended to trade for the trajector technology?"

"Yes." Seska confirmed reluctantly, eyes carefully cast downward.

"When I attempted to download it, I noticed it had already been accessed."

B'Elanna stared at him dumbly for a moment, "_You _were going to download it?"

Tuvok met her stunned gaze evenly, "I will make the exchange with Jaret Otel." He turned towards the transporter pad himself and only then seemed to see Seven staring at him uncomprehendingly. "Return to your post Lieutenant." He told her firmly, though he seemed unsurprised when Seven stayed were she was and went further, touching her arm in a vague echo of the Captain's earlier affectionate gesture towards him. "I appreciate that you were trying to maintain order, but this trade will go ahead as planned."

As planned? Seven mentally repeated. Was the Captain using Tuvok as some kind of proxy? Had she misunderstood the situation entirely? No, Janeway would not have changed her mind so radically, let alone in so secretive a way. How then, could she equate Tuvok's actions with her understanding of his beliefs? Perhaps he asked himself the same questions you did and came to a different, but equally logical, conclusion, part of her mind replied. He is more decisive than you are, uncompromised by conflict in the collective. "Yes Commander." She found herself agreeing numbly, but she'd turned and left the room before he'd proceeded with his transport.

* * *

><p>"I take full responsibility for what happened." B'Elanna began, trying not to focus in on the Captain's hand tapping on her desk, "There were others involved, but I was the senior officer. The culpability is mine."<p>

"No." Seven cut in, "I must also take my share of that culpability Captain." She registered B'Elanna's stunned gaze on her but she stoically ignored it.

"The two lieutenants are not precisely correct Captain." Now it was Tuvok's turn to intervene. "They were not the senior officers involved. I was."

"You?" The Captain whispered.

"It was I who made the exchange. The Federation library for the trajectory matrix."

Janeway's breathing became laboured as she stared at him, then just as intensely as she'd been caught in his face, she broke away and avoided him. "I will deal with you in a moment." She croaked out. Fixating on B'Elanna and Seven's resigned faces gave her the presence of mind to glare, to sharpen the voice she'd momentarily lost. "I don't have the luxury of throwing either of you in the Brig for the rest of this voyage. I need you. I need every person on this ship." Her face hardened further, that reality was distasteful right now, not inspiring as it had been in the beginning. "But I want you to know how very deeply you have disappointed me. If there are any further transgressions, even a minor one, you will no longer be officers on this crew." She finally paused for breath, but didn't break her gaze, "Is that clear?"

"Yes Ma'am." B'Elanna replied stoically.

"Yes Captain." Seven agreed a second later.

Janeway looked to B'Elanna first. "Dismissed." She ground out. She waited for the half-Klingon to leave before turning her full attention on Seven as she gradually lost control of her hurt and anger. "Was I supposed to take our conversation as your warning about this?" she asked accusingly.

"It was not intended as such." She replied ruefully as she met her eyes, thinking that the trouble she'd thought would come of this had, almost as if independent from her own actions. "But I suppose it was."

Janeway looked away from her then, in a conflict of anger and realisation. "Dismissed." She forced out.

Seven found B'Elanna waiting for her outside of the Ready Room's door and sighed to herself. "Why?" B'Elanna whispered, "You could've honestly told her that you tried to stop us and Tuvok overruled you. Why are you taking any blame for this?"

"For similar reasons as you are." Seven replied shortly, "Yes, Tuvok stopped me then, but he did not hinder me from informing the Captain…or Chakotay." She closed her eyes briefly as she remembered that torturous silence she'd maintained on the Bridge after her visit to the transporter room. She'd frozen, said and done nothing even as Voyager was on the verge of a core breech. That was inexcusable. "That was my choice. Just as you did not stop Seska or Carey, I did not stop you. Therefore, as I said, we are both culpable."

B'Elanna swallowed hard, "It has to do with being able to live with yourself." She agreed softly.

* * *

><p>Seven set her PADD aside. Her mind refused to function to the standard she demanded for work. She wasn't comfortable in this chair, staring at the door, but none of the furniture in her quarters, or anyone else's, was particularly comfortable. Apparently comfort was the least relevant factor when designing for Starfleet. Lucky yawned at her feet and she had to fight not to copy him. She was so tired, but she knew attempting to sleep would be futile.<p>

Even the swish of the door seemed angry, and shamefully she finally glanced away from it as it opened, drawing in harsh footfalls. "I did not think you would come here tonight." She murmured.

"Well, I didn't think you'd lie to me today." Chakotay retorted in a deadly quiet, cutting tone.

"By omission, yes." Seven conceded, shakily but without hesitation.

Chakotay stared at her half bowed head, with the light of the one lit desk lamp reflecting off her luminous hair. She was just sitting there, hands in her lap, as enigmatic as the Mona Lisa. "By omission…" He repeated under his breath as he walked past her, removing his uniform jacket with painstaking care before he suddenly exploded, throwing the jacket so hard that it overshot her bed and thumped against the bulkhead. "I don't care what the semantics of the lie were, it was a lie!" he half shouted before he reined himself in as he met her sorrowful eyes. "Why Seven? Why didn't you tell me?" he choked out pleadingly, "If you'd _told _me I know I could've talked B'Elanna out of that stupid plan…"

"Yes." Seven agreed with a resigned sigh that made him stop short. "You would've been able to stop B'Elanna, but Tuvok would've still pursued the trade, and when he admitted as much to the Captain you would have felt honour bound to tell her that you knew of B'Elanna's plan. Her trust in you would have been ruptured even more than with Tuvok, B'Elanna or I."

"So it's better that I'm blindsided?" Chakotay demanded, "That I'm kept ignorant of what's going on with my people? Explain to me how that helps anything?"

Seven stood up slowly, "You would have been unable to betray B'Elanna's mistaken judgement, or mine." She shook her head, "No, it was better that you were protected from this."

"Plausible deniability?" Chakotay muttered in disbelief, but the volume of his voice quickly escalated, "You did exactly the same thing with me as Tuvok did to Janeway! I can make my own decisions, I don't need you to be my human shield!" He strode over to her until they were toe to toe. "It's you who doesn't trust me if you really think you need to protect me from myself…"

At that, Seven, who had been withstanding each accusation stoically, finally let hurt reflect in her eyes. "I do trust you." She forced out hoarsely, "But it was still better that you are untainted by this affair." She added stubbornly.

"God Seven…" Chakotay burst out in frustration, gripping his hair until he drew blood from his scalp. "Better for who exactly? Because it doesn't feel better for me!" Suddenly he stepped several strides back from her, eyes dark and breath huffing as he snatched Lucky's lead off the table. "I'm going to go before I…" He trailed off, instead whistling sharply to the dog, who warily came to his side.

He hesitated in the threshold, half hoping Seven would at least try to give him a better explanation, one he could understand without boiling over, but she didn't follow him. So be it, he decided darkly. He'd walked three circuits of the deck before he even began to cool down, with Lucky hanging back, fighting the pull of the lead, obviously reluctant to be around him in his current mood.

On his fourth circuit, he saw Seska coming the other way and quickened his stride. He couldn't deal with her right now. "Chakotay." Her husky voice, unusually gentle and concerned, tethered him to the spot as reached him. "Are you okay?" She smirked slightly at Lucky, "You're nearly strangling that poor animal."

He self-consciously gave the lead some slack, though she was exaggerating as always. "Just getting some exercise." He replied crisply.

Seska regarded him knowingly, her entrancing green eyes twinkling. "Burning off a bad mood more like." She remarked, laying a warm hand on his bare arm, making the hairs stand up. He only now remembered that he'd marched out of Seven's quarters in just his vest and pants. "I'm surprised you're not punching some poor hologram to a pulp in your boxing programme right now."

Chakotay exhaled slowly, "I used up my holodeck time last week." He told her stiffly.

"I know." Seska murmured, "You thought we Bajorans needed a morale boost, since we're missing the Peldor Joi festival, so you split your share between us." She smiled gently, "The donation was anonymous of course, but you're so predictable Chakotay."

Chakotay slowly dropped his arm away from her. "As you've told me before."

"Yes." Seska conceded, "But you should also remember that I told you that you can _always _talk to me. B'Elanna and Seven made a mistake, you're hurt, but it won't made you feel any better to nurture that hurt any further. It's poisonous."

Chakotay sighed again, more heavily. She was right of course, but something made him look at her more intently. "How much did you know about this Seska?" he asked quietly.

"What everyone knew, that one of those damned Sikarians had made Harry an offer, but I never thought it would go this far, that anyone would think it was the right thing to do…"

"It was an opportunity." Chakotay reminded her grimly.

Seska made a slight snort, "My mother was fond of an old saying, 'An opportunity ill gained will only bring ill.'"

Chakotay peered at her face, she was still captivating, beautiful in a sophisticated way. Still, he had to remember all the incidents on the Valjean where Seska had been an extreme voice, throwing her mother's sage advice to the wind. "Your mother gave good advice."

Seska's eyes misted over, her eyes in that moment reminded Chakotay of the forest canopy of Dorvan. "Yes, she did." She whispered, then collected herself. "This will blow over Chakotay, but while it's still going on, I'm here to listen to you."

"I'll remember that." Chakotay assured her quietly.

Seska dipped her head in graceful acknowledgement. "Good." She winked at him, "Bye _Commander_."

"Good night." Chakotay replied, watching her supple frame until it had disappeared down the corridor. He shook himself slightly, feeling intoxicated. No, he wasn't going there again. There had been a time when he'd enjoyed her games, when it was a welcome distraction in the darkness, but that was the last thing he needed right now.

"Commander."

Chakotay bristled at once at the sound of that deep voice. It seemed like he couldn't just finish his walk in peace. "Lieutenant Commander." He acknowledged the Vulcan, "What can I do for you?" he asked with icy courtesy.

Tuvok let his tone slip over him like water off a duck's back. "I think I should clarify what happened today for you."

"Oh, I've heard enough about today's fiasco to last me a lifetime." Chakotay retorted.

"I doubt Seven will have informed you of this aspect, though why exactly I do not know." Tuvok pressed on unperturbed, seeing immediately that he'd caught Chakotay's attention. "When I intervened to conduct the trade myself, Seven was in the process of foiling my…co-conspirators. Only my order stopped her from doing so. I presume she found it binding enough not to inform you."

"Then why did she tell the Captain that she…" Chakotay began, then stopped himself as things fell into place. Seven respected Tuvok deeply, a respect that hadn't wavered even after he'd been unveiled as a spy. Her trust in his logic was absolute. She'd rely on that rather than betray B'Elanna or risk his own position. "Thank you for telling me the truth." He told Tuvok honestly, "But don't think that erases what you did, which just became all the more deplorable in my eyes."

"I presumed that would be the case Commander. It was still a proper admission for me to tell you." Tuvok replied.

"Yes, it was." Chakotay answered in a clipped tone, relieved that the other man had not attributed the decision to logic. If he had, he would've punched him. As it was, he turned on his heel and walked back to Seven's quarters.

When he entered, she'd moved from the chair to the bed, though as the door opened the light from the hall caught her wide awake blue eyes. "I did not think you would be back." She said, almost mimicking her earlier words, though this time her voice audibly cracked.

Chakotay stepped further into the room, letting the door shut behind him. "Tuvok told me what really happened. That you tried to stop this."

"I did." Seven confirmed, "I was unsuccessful, and I did not make another attempt."

"But that wasn't your fault." Chakotay said in relief as he approached the bed, kicking off his boots. "That ice cold bastard of a Vulcan spy manipulated you…"

Seven inhaled sharply, "You've forgiven mebecause you believe Tuvok manipulated me?"

"Well he _did_,didn't he?" Chakotay said impatiently, "He knew you'd obey him without question and he used that loyalty and trust…" He turned to look at her as he took off his vest, "You're not the first to be taken in by his lies sweetheart…"

"You speak as if I did not have individual action during this, as if I were being controlled." Seven said in a low tone. She winced as she saw the confusion in his handsome face. "Am I defective, more prone to manipulation than anyone else in your opinion?"

"No…of course not." Chakotay replied, "But you are susceptible to things, just like I am susceptible to other tactics…" Against his will, the image of Seska's face appeared in his mind's eye.

"What sort of things?" Seven demanded in a whisper, "The Collective will? Mindlessly obeying orders? I would rather take your full censure with the others than your patronising attitude."

"You think I'm patronising you?" Chakotay asked disbelievingly.

"Yes." Seven said shortly, "I am not your pet drone. My mistakes should not be glazed over because 'I do not know any better', that has been fallacy for years!" Her eyes narrowed, "Or perhaps not in your opinion?"

"Seven, you're human, you _know _I see that!" Chakotay exclaimed desperately, scrambling onto the bed to seize her by the shoulders, "You're twisting my words!"

Seven shuddered, head low as she fought back tears. "You and your family saw my humanity long before I did." She conceded hoarsely, "I…I acted like a drone today, interdependent on the decisions of others. I did not trust my own instincts."

"That's a mistake we're all capable of making Seven, myself included." Chakotay murmured, now rhythmically stroking her arms. "To doubt is human, I don't think drones are capable of that, are they?" He waited for her shake of the head, which duly came. "That's what hurt me, that you doubted my judgement, whether you think you were protecting me or not." He sighed deeply, "I don't expect you to be my moral compass, nor me yours, that's impossible. One of these days we'll both be in the wrong. But I do need to trust you, more than Janeway, more than Tuvok, or even B'Elanna or our other friends, do you understand why?"

Seven gazed up at him, her eyes reassuringly emotional and guileless. "Yes." She said simply.

Chakotay kissed her, with a hungry roughness at first fuelled by his guilt over his fleeting thoughts of Seska. Thankfully Seven was anything but fleeting, as strong and giving in his arms as ever. He broke the heated kiss that had pulled read blood to her lips and cheeks and briefly buried his head in this safety of her shoulder. "I can't have life on this damned ship change us Seven, you were always honest with me before."

Seven responded to that with a wry smile tinged with regret. "I was not wholly honest with you before Voyager…I loved you on the Valjean also." She shyly kissed his cheek as she admitted that, her smile widening shakily as he pressed his lips firmly to her in response.

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><p><strong>An: Please review. Thanks to cojack for updating 'Legacy' again, I love that story. :)**


	89. Fluctuating Affection

**A/n: This week has been good for C/7 fics on the site. First the amazing Teya posted the first chapter of 'Contrary', a post-Endgame fic everyone should read or they're seriously missing out, then cojack updated 'Legacy' with two new chapters and then yesterday The Cheshire Cheese posted a hilarious one-shot, 'Cushion', describing the pitfalls of male vanity and Seven's response to seeing it in Chakotay. ;)**

**I do not own Star Trek Voyager. **

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><p>"Commander!" Chakotay looked up the steep incline to see Joe Carey of all people coming down towards him, loping down the intermittent natural path through the straggling foliage with the apparent ease and pleasure of a hill pony. The man, who Chakotay had thought rather staid, was practically skipping to his side. "Look at this!" He easily tossed his bounty, a fruit a little bigger than a tennis ball, into the air and caught it again before proudly handing it to Chakotay. He didn't seem satisfied by Chakotay's more objective glance over the fruit or his placid smile. In truth, Chakotay was struggling to hide his amusement at Carey's boyish glee, but Carey assumed Chakotay needed more information, "I think they're some kind of apple." He explained earnestly, "There are trees filled with them as far as the eye can see, just over that ridge."<p>

The 'apple' in Chakotay's hand was in his estimation more like an enlarged, rounded pear, with the same furry skin. It _did _look appealing, even mouth-watering, but were Voyager's crew, or at least his current away team, so overwhelmed at finding themselves on virgin M-Class soil rather than Voyager's fifteen decks as to view fresh fruit like a nugget of gold? Judging by the number of volunteers he'd gotten for this basic supply mission, he'd even had to turn a few down, it must be the case, confirmed by how happily everyone seemed to be as they rooted around this sparse valley. It wasn't exactly the Garden of Eden. Well, cabin fever was to be expected, wasn't it? He'd realised that he wasn't immune himself when he'd felt irrationally disappointed by Seven calmly refusing the chance to come down here with him. It was almost an affront, not to want to leave the ship. He was glad she wasn't here with him now though, just picturing the bemused expression she'd be wearing on observing Carey's antics, the twitch of her eyebrow that said more than words, was the main fuel behind his urge to laugh. If she was actually here doing so in the flesh, he might have accidently offended B'Elanna's second-in-command.

Neelix walked over and swiftly took the fruit from Chakotay's hand. "Ah, kaylos…" He drew the name slowly out over his lips as if in deep consideration, "Aren't they gorgeous?" He pressed the kaylo back into Carey's grasp, "One bite will kill you." He stated succinctly, "Puff you up like a vakol fish." Chakotay put his hands on his hips as he slowly turned to Carey, he didn't need to know exactly what a vakol fish looked like to know that he'd need to repeat the 'scan everything you collect' lecture again. Neelix however, was warming to his topic and didn't give his First Officer a chance to speak. "First your windpipe swells…" He gripped at his throat in demonstration, his voice turning appropriately hoarse, "…and just when you think you're going to die of suffocation… Ow! Ugh!" His face scrunched as his knees started to buckle, "You get a sharp pain in your knees which works its way right up to…"

Chakotay grabbed Neelix arm at the wrist, stopping the trail of Neelix's pointing finger just before it reached Carey's crotch. "I think we get the picture." There was explaining the danger and then there was hamming it up one notch too far, and he drew that line firmly before describing elaborate agony to a man's nether regions.

Neelix caught the warning in Chakotay's tone, only now seeing the conflict in Carey's face between horror and mortified embarrassment, a battle that was alternately painting his face tomato red and bleaching it white. "Sorry Mr Carey." He straightened up to give his real advice, "Just remember the old traders' axiom – 'Never judge a fruit by its skin'. On the other hand…" He furtively produced something from behind his back, "Try this."

Chakotay warily took it from him. It looked like some sickly mutation of what you might get if you could cross breed a spring onion and a radish. "What is it?"

"A leola root."

Chakotay broke of the least knobby part of root and took a bite. His reaction was immediate and violent. He spat, no, _spewed_, it straight back into the ground where it had come from and should stay. "You expect us to eat this?" he half-shouted at Neelix, his anger at the utter lack of warning growing as his tongue flailed in his mouth but was unable to escape the taste, as potent and lingering as it was disgusting.

"B…But…" Neelix began, gazing up at him with intensely earnest and slightly offended orange eyes "This is the reason I brought you here Commander. There's no better source of vitamins and minerals in the Quadrant than in this ugly little root."

"I'd find the second-best source acceptable if it tasted better." Chakotay grumbled, his pride and taste buds still wounded.

Neelix gave a cackling laugh. "You humans! You're not used to roughing it, are you?" He led them over a knoll and knelt to harvest more leola roots. "Well, take it from one who knows. The day may come where you'll relish every last crunch of leola." Chakotay took his point and he and Carey joined Neelix on the ground to pull Voyager's first leola harvest as the Talaxian continued his upbeat recommendation of the root, "Stewed for hours in a light herbal broth, meh, you won't even notice the mildew."

Carey and Chakotay exchanged the same wide-eyed glance over the green sprouts of their mildew infused future meals.

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><p>"Captain, I don't think we're alone." Janeway leaned forward in her seat at Tom's serious, if intuitive tone and rose slowly to her feet to stand at her pilot's shoulder. "Mr Tuvok, run a lateral EM scan for me. Coordinates eight-one, mark four zero." Tom requested, keeping his eyes fixated on the viewscreen in from of him rather than turning, however briefly, to address the Vulcan.<p>

"What do you see Mr Paris?" The Captain asked.

Tom squinted intently at the viewscreen for a moment before answering, his tone uncertain but suspicious. "It's like a…reflection. Something low orbit when it moves into a certain angle from the sun."

Seven, now that her attention had been caught, had the benefit of Borg enhancements over Tom's keen, practised eyesight. "It's a ship. A ship in a decaying low orbit."

"Seven of Nine and Lieutenant Paris are correct Captain." Tuvok intoned, "I am picking up an ionisation trail. There is another ship in orbit."

"Using some kind of cloaking device?" The Captain questioned, now swiftly approaching Tuvok's console.

"Not a cloaking device as we know it Captain." Tuvok replied, "I cannot say for certain what it is, but the ship does employ some kind of masking circuitry that has affected our sensors."

Janeway glanced over her shoulder at Seven. "Are you familiar with any species in the region that possess such technology?"

"No." Seven answered, frowning. "At least not a system which is advanced enough to appropriately adapt to and thus block Federation sensors."

Janeway digested this for a moment before activating the comm. link with the away team. "Voyager to Away Team."

"Go ahead Captain." Chakotay responded smoothly.

"Are there any unexpected lifesigns down there Commander?"

"Nothing but bloodworms." Chakotay reported wryly, "Neelix wants to bring some back for a tartare he wants to make." He must've sensed the uneasy silence at the other end of the line and added in reassurance, "I'm trying to talk him out of it."

"We're picking up an unidentified ship in low orbit." Janeway informed him tersely, "Collect your teams and prepare to transport back while we investigate."

"Acknowledged. Chakotay out."

Seven forced herself to take a deep breath and exhale it as Chakotay cut the comm. link. There was nothing in his voice to indicate he felt threatened by anything other than Neelix's more unorthodox recipes, but hearing that voice, however distant, had been a reassuring connection to him. Trying to smother the sparks of anxiety in her before they really took hold, she focusing on addressing Janeway. "Captain, a poloron burst may give us visual contact with the vessel."

"Do it." The Captain ordered unhesitatingly.

The poloron burst was ejected from Voyager, glowing for a moment in the black of space like a Chinese lantern before the burst itself occurred and the flash in produced briefly backlit the vessel hiding in plain sight before them.

The outline of the ship was as unmistakable to Janeway as a Romulan warbird or a Klingon bird of prey would've been to her colleagues in the Alpha Quadrant. "Kazon." She breathed.

"Specifically a vessel designed by the Kazon-Nistrim sect." Seven supplied shortly.

"Voyager to Away Team. Return to the ship immediately." Janeway ordered brusquely.

"Acknowledged Captain." Chakotay replied. He could hear the uptight urgency in Janeway's tone, but here on the surface it wouldn't get anyone back to the ship any quicker if he panicked. His voice was perfectly controlled as, with everyone waiting restively behind him, he spoke to the ship again. "Transporter Room, get ready to begin on my command."

Harry appeared at his side, having hopefully completed the headcount he'd ordered, but Harry's face was tight. "Where's Ensign Seska?"

Seska? Chakotay almost echoed him. Why wasn't he surprised? That woman was too headstrong to be expected to stay within a set perimeter. Knowing her as he did, he should've kept her with him, but again that was precisely why he hadn't. It wasn't as if he'd ever really been able to keep her in line anyway, that's what he'd told himself. "Chakotay to Seska." Despite himself, Chakotay felt worry begin to claw at his gut. Whatever had gone on between them, Seska had never ignored him…unless the situation called for coquettishness of course. "Transporter Room, can you locate Ensign Seska's comm. badge signal?"

"Negative Commander." The technician, Chapman, replied. "I'm not reading any sign of her."

"She was picking berries with our group, over there by the hillside." Harry told him, "There were caves nearby."

"If she went inside one, it might be blocking her comm. badge signal." Chakotay concluded, picking up on Harry's train of thought. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Seska was confident in caves, even comfortable in them. She'd told him more than once they were the only homes she'd had on Bajor during the occupation, after she'd escaped the refugee camp and become integrated into a resistance group, one particularly rural and thus nomadic. Thinking of that painful history, combined with the idea that aliens from those ships might be beaming into those foxhole like caves, he made his decision. "The rest of you go back to the ship. I'm going to look for her."

Under different circumstances, Chakotay would've enjoyed his brief solitary trek through the landscape towards the caves Harry had indicated. The planet lacked the verdant green forests and valleys of Dorvan, or at least what his home had once had before the Cardassians burned huge swathes of it, but the toughed, dry landscape had its own majestic quality. It reminded him of the more rural reaches of California he'd periodically explored during his Academy days, inhospitable in some ways but with beautiful life still managing to etch out a hold. To compare the two would be like comparing a young girl in inexperienced first bloom with a grand dame who'd weathered all that life had to throw at her while gaining respect, what was left of her beauty all the more striking in its scarcity. The fresh air, just the novelty of being out alone with his own thoughts after continually supervising others throughout not only this away mission but over all his months on Voyager, should have invigorated him, but he was too preoccupied and anxious to give his body and mind that chance. Rather than drinking in the living world around him, he studied the mechanical readouts from his tricorder, holding it out in front of him like a bloodhound would its nose. His father would've said technology was blinkering him, that using his eyes would've done more good, but Chakotay dismissed the thought of the half-remembered lecture as his tricorder warily, with disrupted readings, pointed him in the direction a particular cave. He trampled blindly over Seska's pacing footprints as he marched into the cave.

This one was bigger than the others surrounding it, its mouth a wide, gaping grimace rather than a small cleft defect between rocks. It could only be this one. He walked over the sandy tongue that was the cave's floor, eyes searching the musty darkness, but it was his ears that served him better. Rumbling voices, rowdy laughter. Chakotay just managed to press himself against the sweating, pockmarked wall of the cave before two bulky Kazon, their armour glinting in what little light there was, sauntered casually across the cave just a metre or so in front of him.

He cursed under his breath as he pulled away from the safety of the wall, slightly crouched. Where the hell was Seska? What reason could she possibly have to wander any deeper into this dank hellhole? He shivered, not just from the tepid water that dripped from the ceiling down the back of his neck. She could've had to flee deeper after spotting the Kazon…or they could've already killed her. No, Seska wouldn't go down without a fight.

He spent a few moments doing what had been called the 'hide and seek hop' by his Tactical class, moving hurriedly between upturned rock and shadowy overhang for cover. He thought he could hear the voices of the two Kazon receding, but the acoustics of this cave could be playing tricks on him. Still, he straightened up and walked more smoothly, phaser poised. Breathing. Heavy breathing. Waiting. Half sprinting to the nearest piece of obvious cover, he sprang around the rock's corner, finger on the trigger.

An identical Starfleet phaser jerked to point right back at him. Seska's mouth was open to shout as she fired, but just then her eyes, eerily cat-like in the dark, flared with recognition and her battle cry became a ragged exclamation of relief. "Thank the Prophets!"

"What are you doing here?" Chakotay demanded in harsh undertone, aware that they'd be overheard by the Kazon.

"Mushrooms." Seska smiled at him sheepishly, rummaging in her grubby bag to pull a couple out to show him. "I saw them growing by the mouth of the cave. I wanted to teach Neelix who to make your favourite soup."

Chakotay stared at her for a split second, caught between being incredulous and flattered, before becoming impatient with himself and her. "I appreciate the thought." He told her quickly as he grasped her wrist, "But we've got to get out of here."

The hesitation, or the conversation itself, cost them dearly. The two Kazon were waiting for them. Their first shot of blue tinted phaser fire cut between the Kazon, with Chakotay and Seska splaying apart. Then the one on the right aimed badly, his shot flying over Seska's head, giving Chakotay time to fire a more accurate shot into his hesitant companion's chest. In response to that, the remaining Kazon fired again, this time improving his aim enough for the shot to graze Chakotay's side, felling him.

From his dazed, agonised position on the ground, Chakotay saw Seska's eyes narrow viciously before she shot unhesitatingly at his attacker. The man's stunned eyes were glazed by death before he hit the floor, but Chakotay missed this odd dying expression, Seska already having turned to him, her own killer eyes softened by concern, fear and guilt as he groaned. Tenderly, she helped him stand and hobble out of the cave.

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><p>Chakotay peered down at the small slab of rock resting on his knee. It was about the size of his hand, so he could've manoeuvred it easily, but his hands wouldn't stop trembling. He was ready to blame it on the cocktail of painkillers for his four fractured ribs, but he was also the first to admit that he didn't have the best talent for rock carving. As he drew the last stroke of the pictographic word that could be translated as anything from 'harvest' or 'autumnal equinox' to 'gratitude' and many more, bending painfully, stiffly, to blow off the dust, he had to wonder why he'd taken up this old hobby of his father's today of all days. Its provenance as 'real' tradition of any of his tribal ancestors was murky to say the least. Chakotay used to tease his father that just as it may be derived from a hobby of Mayan kings, it could just as easily been started by some of the more entrepreneurial rogues in the tribes a few generations back, trying to make a living hawking cheap 'native art' to wide eyed tourists. The disputed cultural history in his background meant that he'd never know. Yet his father, who could be considered eccentric even by his traditionalist peers, had picked up a rock from every new place he'd visited and carved some kind of prayer into it. He guessed he had to be grateful for escaping that planet 'relatively unscathed' as the Doctor had put it, maybe that's why he'd snatched up a rock on the way out of the cave.<p>

Relatively unscathed my ass, Chakotay groaned to himself as his left side thrummed with pain. Kazon phasers were crude, and without a stun setting obviously, but he'd been lucky that his ribs had stopped the shot from boring a fiery hole in his lung. There wouldn't be any more away missions, or any recreation more strenuous than this rock art, if he followed the Doctor's advice.

His doorbell bleeped behind him, it's tauntingly cheery note piercing his unsettled mood. "Come in."

He didn't look up as he heard soft footsteps on the carpet behind him, distractedly expecting Seven, but when the large metallic sphere that was a covered bowl was set down on the table in front of him it was Seska's hands placing it there. "I didn't think I'd make it!" she declared dramatically, her voice quick, it was a tell she had when she was nervous, but as he glanced at her enquiringly her face was warm and engaging, her eyes flicking over him in concern. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." Chakotay replied gruffly, eyeing her cautiously as she didn't take the hint and took her time settling herself into the chair beside him. He caught her eyes discreetly taking in his quarters and felt oddly uncomfortable. He recalled that, when they'd been together, Seska had always left things of hers lying in his quarters on the Valjean. He'd found it playful and sexy at the time, this habit of marking her territory like a cat, and now he found himself wishing that Seven were a little less fastidiously tidy, that she'd left some sign of herself here for Seska to pick up on. He remembered the mysterious bowl. "What have you got there?" he asked awkwardly.

Seska presented him with a spoon before leaning earnestly into him, her clasped hands resting on the table between them. "Think of it as my apology for getting you into a fire fight over a few mushrooms." She replied, a self-deprecating smile playing over her full lips.

Chakotay's guard dropped as understanding came. "Seska, there's no need to…"

Seska's hand closed tight over his, then she let go just as abruptly, as if his touch burned. "I think there is need this time Chakotay, and _you _don't need to be pushing me away."

Hearing her hurt tone made Chakotay feel more than a little guilty, he was being unreasonable. It made sense that Seska felt bad about what had happened, needlessly or not. After all, she couldn't have predicted a Kazon ambush when she went into that cave. If giving him something to make up for it made her feel better, then he shouldn't reject it. Things had finally settled down between them and he didn't want to stir up old mess, especially since Seska was proving herself a good officer. "So…what is this apology then?"

Seska grinned, pleased with his decision. She removed the lid. "Real food." She declared triumphantly.

Chakotay felt a boyish grin of his own break out over his face as he inhaled the familiar delicious scent. "You got Neelix to make some mushroom soup!"

Seska laughed gaily, "Are you kidding? The man wanted to stretch the mushrooms with just a little…"

"Leola root." Chakotay finished with her as he slurped a spoonful of soup, chuckling.

Seska left eating the soup to him, though she sensuously toyed with her spoon as she launched into the tale. "We got into this tug-of-war with the bag of mushrooms in the middle…" As always Seska's lively face told the story as much as her laughing voice, "It was the most ludicrous thing you've ever seen. Tuvok and Kes broke us up, and then Neelix threw me out of his kitchen."

Chakotay lifted amused eyes to her waiting ones. "So how did you…"

"Mhh…" Seska's eyebrows rose suggestively, her voice dropping to a husky, confidential tone. "Strictly a Maquis operation. First we arranged for a little 'morale crisis'…" She swallowed a giggle, "A couple of our people came down with _severe _homesickness. Neelix, our devoted Morale Officer, responded to the call and came in to cheer them up…" Chakotay began to laugh, "…and while they were all singing Rakan folk songs, Jackson and I broke into the kitchen."

Chakotay hardly managed to swallow that mouthful of soup, it suddenly tasted rotten. All humour left his dark gaze as he fixed his eyes on Seska's unrepentant face. "You looted the food reserves?"

Seska's eyes flicked between his face and the bowl of soup, assessing him, before confidence won out. "Well…if he's not going to give us a decent meal…" She began coyly, trying to maintain the light tone she'd had when earlier teasing Neelix.

What Chakotay had seen as harmless teasing he now saw as a bad taste prank at best and sneaky calculation at worst. He dropped his spoon abruptly. "I can't believe you did this."

Seska gave him that dazzlingly smile of charm. "Well, it's not like we're hiding anything!" she reminded him, "I did bring soup straight to the First Officer, didn't I?" She chose that moment to pick up her spoon and take her own taste of the forbidden soup.

Chakotay refused to see the joke, the possibility of laughing this off. "Thanks for including me in a criminal conspiracy!" he retorted sharply. "Does he know about this yet?"

Seska rolled her eyes at him, "The morale crisis ended a few minutes ago, so I'd say…"

"Neelix to Chakotay." Neelix's aggravated voice filled the room.

"…that he probably does." Seska finished her sentiment wryly under her breath, earning a glare from Chakotay.

"Go ahead Neelix." Chakotay answered him, biting back a sigh.

"I'd like to report a crime. Someone has broken into my kitchen and stolen food, taken food out of the mouths of their crewmates."

"I know." Chakotay assured him darkly, catching Seska with the spoon provocatively in her mouth.

"It was that _Seska_ wasn't it?" Neelix was riled enough to spit out Seska's name like a curse.

"I promise you everyone involved will be disciplined."

"If you'd like my recommendations for punishment, I'd…"

"Thank you. I'll handle that." Chakotay cut him off, "Chakotay out." He stared Seska down, "Replicator privileges revoked for two days. Everyone, including me."

Seska slammed down her spoon and crossed her arms over her chest petulantly. "They're not going to do it."

"Then I'll personally put them in the Brig." Chakotay countered grimly, unmoved by that childish argument as he rose hotly to his feet and stalked over to the window, his back turned to her.

"You'd put me in brig?" Seska asked incredulously, her voice dipping to a wheedling whisper. "After all we've been through?"

"That's irrelevant now." Chakotay ground out through clenched teeth, "And has been for a long time."

Seska laughed bitterly at his choice of words. "That's your Borg Princess talking, not you." She crept up behind him, wrapping one arm across his chest and resting her cheek on his back. This had always been her approach, coming up to him from behind, kissing the back of his neck… Exciting, illicit. His body responded with something between a shudder of disgust and a shiver of anticipation. "The soup was worth losing the replicator privileges for two days." She murmured knowingly, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Admit it."

"That's not the point." Chakotay said firmly as he roughly shrugged her off and spun to face her gleaming, expectant gaze. "I'm not going to admit to anything."

She smirked at him lasciviously, "Sure you won't. Not to Seven of Nine anyway."

Chakotay stiffened at the insinuation, "We agreed a long time ago, without anyone else involved, that we aren't good for each other. _I_ stand by that decision."

Seska smiled at him, "Decisions can be tweaked." She cocked her head at him, "Look around Chakotay. There aren't that many potential mates out here, and who else knows how to make your favourite soup like I do?"

Chakotay was starting to boil over, frustrated and trapped. Why had he let himself be led into this? Seska never changed! He almost snapped, '_Seven_ created the recipe for that damned soup!' but stopped himself just in time from stooping to her level as he saw the gleam of hope in her eyes. Getting defensive would only fuel that. "Seven _is_ my mate Seska." He told her seriously, "And that decision isn't going to be tweaked by you or anyone else. I love her."

Seska studied him through half-closed lids. "Seventy five years is a long time Chakotay, live a little why don't you?" She laughed as she headed for the door, "Of course, if you're not interested…I have had my eye on young Ensign Kim."

"God help him." Chakotay muttered heatedly at the door that closed behind her, though a chill passed through him as he wondered why he hadn't quite been able to make that retort to her face.

* * *

><p>When Seven entered Chakotay's quarters some minutes later, Chakotay couldn't stop himself from tensing up. Not only did he silently berate himself for letting Seska in when she'd run that doorbell, something Seven of course did not need to do, he was also consumed by the irrational fear that the two women had met in the corridor. From the unaffected concern for him written deep on Seven's lovely face however, he saw with relief that that couldn't possibly have happened.<p>

Seven was indeed concerned about Chakotay. Every line in of his body was taut as he sat by the table, seemingly desirous of making himself appear as small as possible. One hand subtly nursed his injured side. The blotchy purple shadows of exhaustion were far from new, but today they seemed to hood his eyes even more heavily. The Captain had been relying on him much more of late, something she might once have taken as a positive step, but her lingering rupture with Tuvok, healing but still there, was all that was behind the shift. That negative atmosphere put more pressure on him to perform for Janeway as she took duties from the out-of-favour Tuvok and piled them on Chakotay. At least her connection to the affair hadn't tainted Chakotay in Janeway's eyes, though it had left her own relationship with him on less solid ground. She'd thought they had gotten through it, or were in the process of getting through it, but right now he didn't exactly look happy to see her. No, it wasn't about her. He was disturbed about something else, had been brooding in here, she could see that. She should've come to check on him earlier… "You should be in Sickbay." She reminded him quietly.

Chakotay smiled at her then, eyes crinkling with affection. "I'm fine." He assured her gently, "The Doctor did all he could for my ribs, I've just to put up with any lingering discomfort apparently." He ushered her closer as her worried frown deepened, "Really Seven, any longer stuck in there with that hologram would've threatened my _mental _health. I'm better off here."

Seven shot him a mildly reproving look, a silent reminder that she had to visit the Doctor daily so that his ministrations could compensate for her lack of regeneration. "He can be tolerable, if you can engage him on a topic and then not fully listen."

Chakotay's eyebrows shot up as she approached him. "Is that your way of hinting you don't always listen to me as efficiently as you could?" He teased, "Really though, I think he has a thing for blondes. He's much pleasanter to you and Kes than anyone else, even the Captain."

Seven regarded him dubiously, unsure whether to take him seriously or not. "He is a hologram." She stated as she sat down beside him, in the chair Seska had occupied. Chakotay almost flinched.

He chuckled weakly, distractedly. "Well, his programme's personality routines are apparently very closely based on the reputedly unpleasant engineer who designed him so anything's possible." He shifted in his own chair, seeing with relief what he already knew, who diametrically opposed Seven and Seska were. Seven neither lounged in the chair nor leaned into him to pull him into her orbit, though she had more right to. She sat as she always did, perched on the edge, poised to rise to any task that presented itself. Not prim exactly, erect. Aloof, dignified. But she wasn't aloof with him, despite the absence of Seska's flirtatious body language. Her blue eyes, clear, guileless but intelligent, never wavered from his.

"I would not overly concern yourself with his other flaws as long as his medical treatments are adequate." Seven replied, now peering at him intently. "Are you certain that you are alright?"

Chakotay smiled at her wanly, "I'm fine. It's just been a…difficult day."

"Yes." Seven agreed at once, with a significant glance at his injured side, strapped up under his uniform. "Are you hungry?"

Chakotay swallowed, thinking of that soup he'd thrown into the recycler in anger. "I guess…" He answered weakly, "I don't have any replicator rations…" His eyes flicked anxiously to her face, but there was no recognition. She hadn't heard about the heist from Neelix's kitchen then, probably was the only one who hadn't. He thanked whatever spirits were above that Seven could tune out gossip even more effectively than the Doctor's inane chatter.

Seven rose gracefully from her chair, tentatively placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Then I will replicate ingredients from my rations and cook something for us." She decided, "Would you like soup? A heartier dish may irritate your stomach while you are on painkillers…"

Chakotay gripped her hand resting his shoulder, bowed his head over it. "No, not that querida." He mumbled, "Make anything else you want."

Seven was affected by his tortured tone, and cautiously lowered herself onto his lap, avoiding putting any pressure on his injures. At once, he brought his head down heavily onto her shoulder, mumbling endearments almost incoherently against her neck. The flow of his speech gradually shifted from the strict Terran Standard into thick Dorvan dialect, an eclectic mix of Latin American Spanish, Nahuatl and English. He'd been ridding himself of that colonial accent in preparation for the Academy even when she'd first met him. She rarely heard it from him now outside the intimacy of their bed, either when they were making love or he when was talking in his sleep, arguing with his nightmares. Her hands cupped his chin, tilting his reluctant gaze back up to hers. "What's wrong? Has…Has being shot at affected you badly?"

Chakotay laughed hoarsely, bitterly. "I didn't see my life flash before my eyes…but a bad choice I made came back to haunt me."

Seven gently kissed his quivering lips, looking into his eyes. She'd never snuck up behind him, not like Seska. "Everything will be fine." She whispered.

Chakotay swallowed hard, hating himself as he loved her. Yes, things had been a little rocky since the incident with the Sikarians, but they were patching it up. There's was perhaps only a real relationship now that they'd hit and got over their first bump in the road. Of course they'd had their share of arguments and falling outs back when they'd held themselves back as friends, but that one had been the first of their romance. While not as serious or long lasting as some of their disagreements on the Valjean had been, they were on a different level now and its impact had been felt as such. He bemoaned that night when he'd off-loaded to Seska, given her the impression, no matter how unintentionally, that the wound in his and Seven's relationship was deep enough for her to get her claws in and poison it beyond healing. He blamed himself for that more than Seska. He slowly returned Seven's kiss, deepening and lengthening it before pulling back to look at her, a pained gleam in his eyes. "Perdóname." He choked out, "Te queiro mi vida."

Disconcerted by his fervour as much as touched by it, Seven gave him a comforting hug, much as she did after one of the nightmares. "Sí, yo se." She reassured him in a soothing whisper, for once not caring about her flawed pronunciation. No matter that she had spent almost as many years on Dorvan V with the Kotays as she had with her parents, whenever she tried to speak Spanish the Swedish inflections that had been native to Annika Hansen reasserted themselves, seemingly as permanently ingrained into her as some of her Borg traits. Her imperfect delivery had always made her self-conscious, especially on Dorvan where technology such as Universal Translators had been frowned upon and thus she'd had to depend upon it, but it didn't matter right now as she watched Chakotay visibly relax at her words. "Te queiro Chakotay."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Please review. The word 'querida' translates to 'dear' then Chakotay says 'Forgive me. I love you my darling.' (Literally he says 'I love you my life') Seven then replies 'Yes, I know' and lastly says she loves him. Remember to check out those new stories! :D**


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